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THE  ANTIQUARY 

AND 

THE  BLACK  DWARF 

BY 

SIR  WALTER  SCOTT 


BOSTON  AND  NEW  YORK 
HOUGHTON  MIFFLIN  COMPANY 


COPYRIGHT,  191 2 
BY  HOUGHTON  MIFFLIN  COMPANY 


ALL  RIGHTS  RESERVED 


THE 


ANTIQUARY 


VOLUME  I 


I  knew  Anselmo.  He  was  shrewd  and  prudent, 

Wisdom  and  cunning  had  their  shares  of  him ; 

But  he  was  shrewish  as  a  wayward  child, 

And  pleased  again  by  toys  which  childhood  please  ; 

As  —  book  of  fables,  graced  with  print  of  wood, 

Or  else  the  jingling  of  a  rusty  medal, 

Or  the  rare  melody  of  some  old  ditty, 

That  first  was  sung  to  please  King  Pepin's  cradle. 


INTRODUCTION 


The  present  Work  completes  a  series  of  fictitious  narra- 
tives intended  to  illustrate  the  manners  of  Scotland  at 
three  different  periods.  Waverley  embraced  the  age  of 
our  fathers,  Guy  Mannering  that  of  our  own  youth,  and 
the  Antiquary  refers  to  the  last  ten  years  of  the  eight- 
eenth century.  I  have,  in  the  two  last  narratives  es- 
pecially, sought  my  principal  personages  in  the  class  of 
society  who  are  the  last  to  feel  the  influence  of  that  gen- 
eral polish  which  assimilates  to  each  other  the  manners 
of  different  nations.  Among  the  same  class  I  have 
placed  some  of  the  scenes  in  which  I  have  endeavoured 
to  illustrate  the  operation  of  the  higher  and  more  violent 
passions ;  both  because  the  lower  orders  are  less  restrained 
by  the  habit  of  suppressing  their  feelings,  and  because 
I  agree  with  my  friend  Wordsworth  that  they  seldom 
fail  to  express  them  in  the  strongest  and  most  powerful 
language.  This  is,  I  think,  peculiarly  the  case  with  the 
peasantry  of  my  own  country,  a  class  with  whom  I  have 
long  been  familiar.  The  antique  force  and  simplicity  of 
their  language,  often  tinctured  with  the  Oriental  elo- 
quence of  Scripture,  in  the  mouths  of  those  of  an  ele- 
vated understanding,  give  pathos  to  their  grief  and 
dignity  to  their  resentment. 

I  have  been  more  solicitous  to  describe  manners  mi-|       ,^ .  . 
nutely  than  to  arrange  in  any  case  an  artificial  and  com-j  ^^'^^ 
bined  narrative,  and  have  but  to  regret  that  I  felt  myself 
unable  to  unite  these  two  requisites  of  a  good  Novel. 

The  knavery  of  the  Adept  in  the  following  sheets  may    K  ^ 
ix 


INTRODUCTION 


appear  forced  and  improbable;  but  we  have  had  very 
late  instances  of  the  force  of  superstitious  credulity  to 
a  much  greater  extent,  and  the  reader  may  be  assured 
that  this  part  of  the  narrative  is  founded  on  a  fact  of 
actual  occurrence. 

I  have  now  only  to  express  my  gratitude  to  the  public 
for  the  distinguished  reception  which  they  have  given  to 
works  that  have  little  more  than  some  truth  of  colouring 
to  recommend  them,  and  to  take  my  respectful  leave, 
as  one  who  is  not  likely  again  to  solicit  their  favour. 

To  the  above  advertisement,  which  was  prefixed  to 
the  first  edition  of  the  Antiquary ^  it  is  necessary  in  the 
present  edition  to  add  a  few  words,  transferred  from  the 
Introduction  to  the  Chronicles  of  the  Canongate,  respect- 
ing the  character  of  Jonathan  Oldbuck. 

*I  may  here  state  generally  that,  although  I  have 
deemed  historical  personages  free  subjects  of  delinea- 
tion, I  have  never  on  any  occasion  violated  the  respect 
due  to  private  life.  It  was  indeed  impossible  that  traits 
proper  to  persons,  both  living  and  dead,  with  whom  I 
have  had  intercourse  in  society  should  not  have  risen  to 
my  pen  in  such  works  as  Waverley  and  those  which  fol- 
lowed it.  But  I  have  always  studied  to  generalise  the 
portraits,  so  that  they  should  still  seem,  on  the  whole, 
the  productions  of  fancy,  though  possessing  some  re- 
semblance to  real  individuals.  Yet  I  must  own  my  at- 
tempts have  not  in  this  last  particular  been  uniformly 
successful.  There  are  men  whose  characters  are  so 
peculiarly  marked  that  the  delineation  of  some  leading 
and  principal  feature  inevitably  places  the  whole  person 
before  you  in  his  individuality.  Thus  the  character  of 


INTRODUCTION 


Jonathan  Oldbuck  in  the  Antiquary  was  partly  founded 
on  that  of  an  old  friend  of  my  youth,  to  whom  I  am 
indebted  for  introducing  me  to  Shakspeare  and  other 
invaluable  favours;  but  I  thought  I  had  so  completely 
disguised  the  likeness  that  it  could  not  be  recognised  by 
any  one  now  alive.  I  was  mistaken,  however,  and  indeed 
had  endangered  what  I  desired  should  be  considered  as  a 
secret;  for  I  afterwards  learned  that  a  highly  respectable 
gentleman,  one  of  the  few  surviving  friends  of  my  father, 
and  an  acute  critic,  had  said,  upon  the  appearance  of  the 
work,  that  he  was  now  convinced  who  was  the  author  of 
it,  as  he  recognised  in  the  Antiquary  traces  of  the  char- 
acter of  a  very  intimate  friend  of  my  father's  family.' 

I  have  only  farther  to  request  the  reader  not  to  sup- 
pose that  my  late  respected  friend  resembled  Mr.  Old- 
buck  either  in  his  pedigree  or  the  history  imputed  to  the 
ideal  personage.  There  is  not  a  single  incident  in  the 
Novel  which  is  borrowed  from  his  real  circumstances, 
excepting  the  fact  that  he  resided  in  an  old  house  near 
a  flourishing  seaport,  and  that  the  Author  chanced  to 
witness  a  scene  betwixt  him  and  the  female  proprietor  of 
a  stage-coach  very  similar  to  that  which  commences  the 
history  of  the  Antiquary.  An  excellent  temper,  with 
a  slight  degree  of  subacid  humour;  learning,  wit,  and 
drollery  the  more  poignant  that  they  were  a  little 
marked  by  the  peculiarities  of  an  old  bachelor;  a  soxmd- 
ness  of  thought,  rendered  more  forcible  by  an  occasional 
quaintness  of  expression,  were,  the  Author  conceives, 
the  only  qualities  in  which  the  creature  of  his  imagina- 
tion resembled  his  benevolent  and  excellent  old  friend. 

The  prominent  part  performed  by  the  Beggar  in  the 
following  narrative  induces  the  Author  to  prefix  a  few 

xi 


INTRODUCTION 


remarks  on  that  character,  as  it  formerly  existed  in 
Scotland,  though  it  is  now  scarcely  to  be  traced. 

Many  of  the  old  Scottish  mendicants  were  by  no 
means  to  be  confounded  with  the  utterly  degraded  class 
of  beings  who  now  practise  that  wandering  trade.  Such 
of  them  as  were  in  the  habit  of  travelling  through  a 
particular  district  were  usually  well  received  both  in 
the  farmer's  ha'  and  in  the  kitchens  of  the  country 
gentlemen.  Martin,  author  of  the  Reliquice  Divi  Sancti 
Andrea  J  written  in  1683,  gives  the  following  account  of 
one  class  of  this  order  of  men  in  the  seventeenth  century, 
in  terms  which  would  induce  an  antiquary  like  Mr.  Old- 
buck  to  regret  its  extinction.  He  conceives  them  to  be 
descended  from  the  ancient  bards,  and  proceeds:  ^They 
are  called  by  others  and  by  themselves  Jockies,  who  go 
about  begging,  and  use  still  to  recite  the  Sloggorne 
(gathering-words  or  war-cries)  of  most  of  the  true  an- 
cient surnames  of  Scotland,  from  old  experience  and 
observation.  Some  of  them  I  have  discoursed,  and  found 
to  have  reason  and  discretion.  One  of  them  told  me 
there  were  not  now  above  twelve  of  them  in  the  whole 
isle;  but  he  remembered  when  they  abounded,  so  as  at 
one  time  he  was  one  of  five  that  usually  met  at  St. 
Andrews.' 

The  race  of  Jockies  (of  the  above  description)  has, 
I  suppose,  been  long  extinct  in  Scotland;  but  the  old 
remembered  beggar,  even  in  my  own  time,  like  the 
Baccoch,  or  travelling  cripple  of  Ireland,  was  expected 
to  merit  his  quarters  by  something  beyond  an  exposition 
of  his  distresses.  He  was  often  a  talkative,  facetious 
fellow,  prompt  at  repartee,  and  not  withheld  from 
exercising  his  powers  that  way  by  any  respect  of  persons, 

xii 


INTRODUCTION 


his  patched  cloak  giving  him  the  privilege  of  the  ancient 
jester.  To  be  a  ^gude  crack/  that  is,  to  possess  talents 
for  conversation,  was  essential  to  the  trade  of  a  *puir 
body'  of  the  more  esteemed  class;  and  Burns,  who  de- 
lighted in  the  amusement  their  discourse  afforded,  seems 
to  have  looked  forward  with  gloomy  firmness  to  the  pos- 
sibility of  himself  becoming  one  day  or  other  a  member 
of  their  itinerant  society.  In  his  poetical  works  it  is 
alluded  to  so  often  as  perhaps  to  indicate  that  he  con- 
sidered the  consummation  as  not  utterly  impossible. 
Thus,  in  the  fine  dedication  of  his  works  to  Gavin 
Hamilton,  he  says  — 

And  when  I  downa  yoke  a  naig, 
Then,  Lord  be  thankit,  I  can  beg. 

Again,  in  his  Epistle  to  Davie,  a  brother  poet^  he  states, 

that  in  their  closing  career  — 

The  last  o^t,  the  warst  o't, 
Is  only  just  to  beg. 

And  after  having  remarked  that 

To  He  in  kilns  and  barns  at  e'en, 
When  banes  are  crazed  and  blude  is  thin, 
Is  doubtless  great  distress; 

the  bard  reckons  up,  with  true  poetical  spirit,  the  free 
enjoyment  of  the  beauties  of  nature,  which  might  coun- 
terbalance the  hardship  and  uncertainty  of  the  Ufe  even 
of  a  mendicant.  In  one  of  his  prose  letters,  to  which 
I  have  lost  the  reference,  he  details  this  idea  yet  more 
seriously,  and  dwells  upon  it  as  not  ill  adapted  to  his 
habits  and  powers. 

As  the  Hfe  of  a  Scottish  mendicant  of  the  eighteenth 
century  seems  to  have  been  contemplated  without  much 

xiii 


INTRODUCTION 

horror  by  Robert  Burns,  the  Author  can  hardly  have 
erred  in  giving  to  Edie  Ochiltree  something  of  poetical 
character  and  personal  dignity  above  the  more  abject  of 
his  miserable  calling.  The  class  had,  in  fact,  some  priv- 
ileges. A  lodging,  such  as  it  was,  was  readily  granted  to 
them  in  some  of  the  out-houses,  and  the  usual  'awmous' 
(alms)  of  a  handful  of  meal  (called  a  ^gowpen')  was 
scarce  denied  by  the  poorest  cottager.  The  mendicant 
disposed  these,  according  to  their  different  quality,  in 
various  bags  around  his  person,  and  thus  carried  about 
with  him  the  principal  part  of  his  sustenance,  which  he 
literally  received  for  the  asking.  At  the  houses  of  the 
gentry  his  cheer  was  mended  by  scraps  of  broken  meat, 
and  perhaps  a  Scottish  Hwal-penny,'  or  English  penny, 
which  was  expended  in  snuff  or  whisky.  In  fact  these 
indolent  peripatetics  suffered  much  less  real  hardship 
and  want  of  food  than  the  poor  peasants  from  whom 
they  received  alms. 

If,  in  addition  to  his  personal  qualifications,  the  men- 
dicant chanced  to  be  a  King's  Bedesman,  or  Blue-Gown, 
he  belonged,  in  virtue  thereof,  to  the  aristocracy  of  his 
order,  and  was  esteemed  a  person  of  great  importance. 

These  Bedesmen  are  an  order  of  paupers  to  whom  the 
kings  of  Scotland  were  in  the  custom  of  distributing  a 
certain  alms,  in  conformity  with  the  ordinances  of  the 
CathoUc  Church,  and  who  were  expected  in  return  to 
pray  for  the  royal  welfare  and  that  of  the  state.  This 
order  is  still  kept  up.  Their  number  is  equal  to  the  num- 
ber of  years  which  his  Majesty  has  lived;  and  one  Blue- 
Gown  additional  is  put  on  the  roll  for  every  returning 
royal  birthday.  On  the  same  auspicious  era  each  Bedes- 
man receives  a  new  cloak  or  gown  of  coarse  cloth,  the 

xiv 


INTRODUCTION 


colour  light  blue,  with  a  pewter  badge,  which  confers  on 
them  the  general  privilege  of  asking  alms  through  all 
Scotland,  all  laws  against  sorning,  masterful  beggary, 
and  every  other  species  of  mendicity  being  suspended 
in  favour  of  this  privileged  class.  With  his  cloak  each 
receives  a  leathern  purse  containing  as  many  shillings 
Scots  (videlicet,  pennies  sterling)  as  the  sovereign  is 
years  old;  the  zeal  of  their  intercession  for  the  king's 
long  life  receiving,  it  is  to  be  supposed,  a  great  stimulus 
from  their  own  present  and  increasing  interest  in  the 
object  of  their  prayers.  On  the  same  occasion  one  of  the 
royal  chaplains  preaches  a  sermon  to  the  Bedesmen,  who 
(as  one  of  the  reverend  gentlemen  expressed  himself) 
are  the  most  impatient  and  inattentive  audience  in  the 
world.  Something  of  this  may  arise  from  a  feeling  on 
the  part  of  the  Bedesmen  that  they  are  paid  for  their 
own  devotions,  not  for  listening  to  those  of  others.  Or 
more  probably  it  arises  from  impatience,  natural  though 
indecorous  in  men  bearing  so  venerable  a  character,  to 
arrive  at  the  conclusion  of  the  ceremonial  of  the  royal 
birthday,  which,  so  far  as  they  are  concerned,  ends  in 
a  lusty  breakfast  of  bread  and  ale;  the  whole  moral  and 
religious  exhibition  terminating  in  the  advice  of  John- 
son's 'Hermit  hoar'  to  his  proselyte,  — 

Come,  my  lad,  and  drink  some  beer. 

Of  the  charity  bestowed  on  these  aged  Bedesmen  in 
money  and  clothing,  there  are  many  records  in  the 
Treasurer's  accompts.  The  following  extract,  kindly 
supplied  by  Mr.  MacDonald  of  the  Register  House,  may 
interest  those  whose  taste  is  akin  to  that  of  Jonathan 
Oldbuck  of  Monkbarns:  — 


XV 


INTRODUCTION 


BLEW  GOWNIS 

In  the  Account  of  Sir  Robert  Melvill  of  Murdocarny, 
Treasurer-Depute  of  King  James  VI,  there  are  the  fol- 
lowing payments:  — 

'Junij  1590 

*Item,  to  Mr.  Peter  Young,  elimosinar,  twentie  four  gownis  of 
blew  clayth,  to  be  gevin  to  xxiiij  auld  men,  according  to  the  yeiris 
of  his  hienes  age,  extending  to  viij^  viij  elnis  clayth;  price  of  the 
elne  xxiiij  s.     .  .  .  Inde,  ij  c  j  li.  xij  §. 

'Item,  for  sextene  elnis  bukrum  to  the  saidis  gownis,  price  of 
the  elne  x  §.      .  .  .  .        .  Inde,  viij  li. 

*Item,  twentie  four  pursis,  and  in  ilk  purse  twentie  four 
schilling,  .  .  .  Inde,  xxviij  li.  xvj  §. 

*Item,  the  price  of  ilk  purse  iiij  3.  .  Inde,  viij  §. 

*Item,  for  making  of  the  saidis  gownis,      .  .    viij  K.* 

In  the  Account  of  John,  Earl  of  Mar,  Great  Treasurer  of 
Scotland,  and  of  Sir  Gideon  Murray  of  Elibank,  Treasurer- 
Depute,  the  Blue  Gowns  also  appear,  thus:  — 

*Junij  1617 

'Item,  to  James  Murray,  merchant,  for  fyftene  scoir  sex  elnis 
and  ane  half  elne  of  blew  claith  to  be  gownis  to  fyftie  ane  aigeit 
men,  according  to  the  yeiris  of  his  Majesteis  age,  at  xl  §.  the 
elne,  .....    Inde,  vj  c  xiij  K. 

'Item,  to  workmen  for  careing  the  blewis  to  James  Aikman, 
tailyeour,  his  hous,         .  .  .         xiij  §.  iiij  3. 

'Item,  for  sex  elnis  and  ane  half  of  harden  to  the  saidis  gownis, 
at  vj  s.  viij  d.  the  elne,     .  .  Inde,  xliij  §.  iiij  3. 

'Item,  to  the  said  workmen  for  careing  of  the  gownis  fra  the 
said  James  Aikman's  hous  to  the  palace  of  Halyrudehous,  xviij  s. 

'Item,  for  making  the  saidis  fyftie  ane  gownis,  at  xij  §.  the 
peice,  ....  Inde,  xxx  li.  xij  §. 

'  Item,  for  fyftie  ane  pursis  to  the  said  puire  men,  Ij  s. 

'Item,  to  Sir  Peter  Young,  Ij  §.  to  be  put  in  everie  ane  of  the 
saidis  Ij  pursis  to  the  said  poore  men.         .       j  c  xxx  Ij  j  s. 

'Item,  to  the  said  Sir  Peter,  to  buy  breid  and  drink  to  the  said 
puir  men,  .  .  .  .  vj  K.  xiij  s  iiij  d. 

'Item,  to  the  said  Sir  Peter,  to  be  delt  amang  uther  puire 
folk,  .  .  .  •  •    i  c  Ij. 

xvi 


INTRODUCTION 


'Item,  upoun  the  last  day  of  Junij  to  Doctor  Young,  Deane 
of  Winchester,  Elimozinar  Deput  to  his  Majestic,  twentie  fyve 
pund  sterling,  to  be  gevin  to  the  puir  be  the  way  in  his  Majesteis 
progress,  .  .  .  .      Inde,  iij  c  li.' 

I  have  only  to  add  that,  although  the  institution  of 
King^s  Bedesmen  still  subsists,  they  are  now  seldom  to 
be  seen  on  the  streets  of  Edinburgh,  of  which  their 
peculiar  dress  made  them  rather  a  characteristic  feature. 

Having  thus  given  an  account  of  the  genus  and  species 
to  which  Edie  Ochiltree  appertains,  the  Author  may 
add,  that  the  individual  he  had  in  his  eye  was  Andrew 
Gemmells,  an  old  mendicant  of  the  character  described, 
who  was  many  years  since  well  known,  and  must  still 
be  remembered,  in  the  vales  of  Gala,  Tweed,  Ettrick, 
Yarrow,  and  the  adjoining  country. 

The  Author  has  in  his  youth  repeatedly  seen  and  con- 
versed with  Andrew,  but  cannot  recollect  whether  he 
held  the  rank  of  Blue-Gown.  He  was  a  remarkably  fine 
old  figure,  very  tall,  and  maintaining  a  soldier-like  or 
military  manner  and  address.  His  features  were  intel- 
ligent, with  a  pov/erful  expression  of  sarcasm.  His  mo- 
tions were  always  so  graceful  that  he  might  almost  have 
been  suspected  of  having  studied  them;  for  he  might  on 
any  occasion  have  served  as  a  model  for  an  artist,  so 
remarkably  striking  were  his  ordinary  attitudes.  An- 
drew Gemmells  had  little  of  the  cant  of  his  calling;  his 
wants  were  food  and  shelter,  or  a  trifle  of  money,  which 
he  always  claimed,  and  seemed  to  receive,  as  his  due.  He 
sung  a  good  song,  told  a  good  story,  and  could  crack  a 
severe  jest  with  all  the  acumen  of  Shakspeare's  jesters, 
though  without  using,  like  them,  the  cloak  of  insanity. 
It  was  some  fear  of  Andrew's  satire,  as  much  as  a  feeling 

xvii 


INTRODUCTION 


of  kindness  or  charity,  which  secured  him  the  general 
good  reception  which  he  enjoyed  everywhere.  In  fact, 
a  jest  of  Andrew  Gemmells,  especially  at  the  expense  of 
a  person  of  consequence,  flew  round  the  circle  which  he 
frequented  as  surely  as  the  bon-mot  of  a  man  of  estab- 
lished character  for  wit  glides  through  the  fashionable 
world.  Many  of  his  good  things  are  held  in  remem- 
brance, but  are  generally  too  local  and  personal  to  be 
introduced  here. 

Andrew  had  a  character  peculiar  to  himself  among  his 
tribe  for  aught  I  ever  heard.  He  was  ready  and  willing 
to  play  at  cards  or  dice  with  any  one  who  desired  such 
amusement.  This  was  more  in  the  character  of  the  Irish 
itinerant  gambler,  called  in  that  country  a  ^carrow,' 
than  of  the  Scottish  beggar.  But  the  late  Reverend  Doc- 
tor Robert  Douglas,  minister  of  Galashiels,  assured  the 
Author  that  the  last  time  he  saw  Andrew  Gemmells  he 
was  engaged  in  a  game  at  brag  with  a  gentleman  of 
fortune,  distinction,  and  birth.  To  preserve  the  due 
gradations  of  rank,  the  party  was  made  at  an  open  win- 
dow of  the  chateau,  the  laird  sitting  on  his  chair  in  the 
inside,  the  beggar  on  a  stool  in  the  yard;  and  they  played 
on  the  window-sill.  The  stake  was  a  considerable  parcel 
of  silver.  The  Author  expressing  some  surprise.  Doctor 
Douglas  observed,  that  the  laird  was  no  doubt  a  humor- 
ist or  original;  but  that  many  decent  persons  in  those 
times  would,  like  him,  have  thought  there  was  nothing 
extraordinary  in  passing  an  hour,  either  in  card-playing 
or  conversation,  with  Andrew  Gemmells. 

This  singular  mendicant  had  generally,  or  was  sup- 
posed to  have,  as  much  money  about  his  person  as  would 
have  been  thought  the  value  of  his  life  among  modern 

xviii 


INTRODUCTION 


foot-pads.  On  one  occasion  a  country  gentleman,  gen- 
erally esteemed  a  very  narrow  man,  happening  to  meet 
Andrew,  expressed  great  regret  that  he  had  no  silver  in 
his  pocket,  or  he  would  have  given  him  sixpence.  'I  can 
give  you  change  for  a  note,  laird,'  replied  Andrew. 

Like  most  who  have  arisen  to  the  head  of  their  profes- 
sion, the  modern  degradation  which  mendicity  has  un- 
dergone was  often  the  subject  of  Andrew's  lamentations. 
As  a  trade,  he  said,  it  was  forty  pounds  a  year  worse 
since  he  had  first  practised  it.  On  another  occasion  he 
observed,  begging  was  in  modern  times  scarcely  the 
profession  of  a  gentleman,  and  that  if  he  had  twenty  sons 
he  would  not  easily  be  induced  to  breed  one  of  them  up 
in  his  own  line.  When  or  where  this  laudator  temporis 
acti  closed  his  wanderings  the  Author  never  heard  with 
certainty;  but  most  probably,  as  Burns  says, 

He  died  a  cadger-powny^s  death 
At  some  dike  side. 

The  Author  may  add  another  picture  of  the  same 
kind  as  Edie  Ochiltree  and  Andrew  Gemmells;  consider- 
ing these  illustrations  as  a  sort  of  gallery,  open  to  the 
reception  of  anything  which  may  elucidate  former 
manners  or  amuse  the  reader. 

The  Author's  contemporaries  at  the  university  of 
Edinburgh  will  probably  remember  the  thin  wasted  form 
of  a  venerable  old  Bedesman  who  stood  by  the  Potter 
Row  Port,  now  demolished,  and,  without  speaking  a 
syllable,  gently  inclined  his  head  and  offered  his  hat,  but 
with  the  least  possible  degree  of  urgency,  towards  each 
individual  who  passed.  This  man  gained,  by  silence  and 
the  extenuated  and  wasted  appearance  of  a  palmer  from 
a  remote  country,  the  same  tribute  which  was  yielded  to 

xix 


INTRODUCTION 


Andrew  Gemmells's  sarcastic  humour  and  stately  de- 
portment. He  was  understood  to  be  able  to  maintain  a 
son  a  student  in  the  theological  classes  of  the  University, 
at  the  gate  of  which  the  father  was  a  mendicant.  The 
young  man  was  modest  and  inclined  to  learning,  so  that 
a  student  of  the  same  age,  and  whose  parents  were  rather 
of  the  lower  order,  moved  by  seeing  him  excluded  from 
the  society  of  other  scholars  when  the  secret  of  his  birth 
was  suspected,  endeavoured  to  console  him  by  offering 
him  some  occasional  civilities.  The  old  mendicant  was 
grateful  for  this  attention  to  his  son,  and  one  day,  as  the 
friendly  student  passed,  he  stooped  forward  more  than 
usual,  as  if  to  intercept  his  passage.  The  scholar  drew 
out  a  halfpenny,  which  he  concluded  was  the  beggar's 
object,  when  he  was  surprised  to  receive  his  thanks  for 
the  kindness  he  had  shown  to  Jemmie,  and  at  the  same 
time  a  cordial  invitation  to  dine  with  them  next  Satur- 
day, ^on  a  shoulder  of  mutton  and  potatoes,'  adding, 
'ye '11  put  on  your  clean  sark,  as  I  have  company.'  The 
student  was  strongly  tempted  to  accept  this  hospitable 
proposal,  as  many  in  his  place  would  probably  have 
done;  but,  as  the  motive  might  have  been  capable  of 
misrepresentation,  he  thought  it  most  prudent,  con- 
sidering the  character  and  circumstances  of  the  old 
man,  to  decline  the  invitation. 

Such  are  a  few  traits  of  Scottish  mendicity,  designed 
to  throw  Ught  on  a  Novel  in  which  a  character  of  that 
description  plays  a  prominent  part.  We  conclude  that 
we  have  vindicated  Edie  Ochiltree's  right  to  the  import- 
ance assigned  him ;  and  have  shown  that  we  have  known 
one  beggar  take  a  hand  at  cards  with  a  person  of  disv. 
tinction  and  another  give  dinner  parties. 

XX 


INTRODUCTION 


I  know  not  if  it  be  worth  while  to  observe  that  the 
Antiquary  was  not  so  well  received  on  its  first  appear- 
ance as  either  of  its  predecessors,  though  in  course  of 
time  it  rose  to  equal,  and  with  some  readers  superior, 
popularity. 


THE  ANTIQjUARY 


CHAPTER  I 

Go  call  a  coach,  and  let  a  coach  be  call'd, 

And  let  the  man  who  calleth  be  the  caller; 

And  in  his  calling  let  him  nothing  call 

But  Coach!  Coach!  Coach!  O  for  a  coach,  ye  gods! 

Chrononhotonthologos, 

It  was  early  on  a  fine  summer's  day,  near  the  end  of 
the  eighteenth  century,  when  a  young  man  of  genteel 
appearance,  journeying  towards  the  north-east  of  Scot- 
land, provided  himself  with  a  ticket  in  one  of  those  pub- 
lic carriages  which  travel  between  Edinburgh  and  the 
Queensferry,  at  which  place,  as  the  name  implies,  and  as 
is  well  known  to  all  my  northern  readers,  there  is  a 
passage-boat  for  crossing  the  Firth  of  Forth.  The  coach 
was  calculated  to  carry  six  regular  passengers,  besides 
such  interlopers  as  the  coachman  could  pick  up  by  the 
way  and  intrude  upon  those  who  were  legally  in  posses- 
sion. The  tickets  which  conferred  right  to  a  seat  in  this 
vehicle  of  little  ease  were  dispensed  by  a  sharp-looking 
old  dame,  with  a  pair  of  spectacles  on  a  very  thin  nose, 
who  inhabited  a  'laigh  shop,'  anglice,  a  cellar,  opening  to 
the  High  Street  by  a  strait  and  steep  stair,  at  the  bottom 
of  which  she  sold  tape,  thread,  needles,  skeans  of 
worsted,  coarse  Hnen  cloth,  and  such  feminine  gear,  to 
those  who  had  the  courage  and  skill  to  descend  to  the 
profundity  of  her  dwelling  without  falling  headlong 
themselves  or  throwing  down  any  of  the  nimierous 

5  I 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


articles  which,  piled  on  each  side  of  the  descent,  indic- 
ated the  profession  of  the  trader  below. 

The  written  handbill  which,  pasted  on  a  projecting 
board,  announced  that  the  Queensferry  diligence,  or 
Hawes  fly,  departed  precisely  at  twelve  o'clock  on  Tues- 
day the  fifteenth  July  17 — ,  in  order  to  secure  for  travel- 
lers the  opportunity  of  passing  the  Firth  with  the  flood- 
tide,  Ked  on  the  present  occasion  like  a  bulletin;  for, 
although  that  hour  was  pealed  from  Saint  Giles's  steeple 
and  repeated  by  the  Tron,  no  coach  appeared  upon  the 
appointed  stand.  It  is  true,  only  two  tickets  had  been 
taken  out,  and  possibly  the  lady  of  the  subterranean 
mansion  might  have  an  understanding  with  her  Auto- 
medon  that  in  such  cases  a  little  space  was  to  be  allowed 
for  the  chance  of  filling  up  the  vacant  places;  or  the  said 
Automedon  might  have  been  attending  a  funeral,  and  be 
delayed  by  the  necessity  of  stripping  his  vehicle  of  its 
lugubrious  trappings;  or  he  might  have  staid  to  take  a 
half-mutchkin  extraordinary  with  his  crony  the  hostler; 
or  —  in  short,  he  did  not  make  his  appearance. 

The  young  gentleman,  who  began  to  grow  somewhat 
impatient,  was  now  joined  by  a  companion  in  this  petty 
misery  of  himian  life  —  the  person  who  had  taken  out 
the  other  place.  He  who  is  bent  upon  a  journey  is  usu- 
ally easily  to  be  distinguished  from  his  fellow-citizens. 
The  boots,  the  great-coat,  the  umbrella,  the  little  bundle 
in  his  hand,  the  hat  pulled  over  his  resolved  brows,  the 
determined  importance  of  his  pace,  his  brief  answers  to 
the  salutations  of  lounging  acquaintances,  are  all  marks 
by  which  the  experienced  traveller  in  mail-coach  or 
diligence  can  distinguish  at  a  distance  the  companion  of 
his  future  journey,  as  he  pushes  onward  to  the  place 

2 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

of  rendezvous.  It  is  then  that,  with  worldly  wisdom,  the 
first  comer  hastens  to  secure  the  best  berth  in  the  coach 
for  himself,  and  to  make  the  most  convenient  arrange- 
ment for  his  baggage  before  the  arrival  of  his  compet- 
itors. Our  youth,  who  was  gifted  with  little  prudence  of 
any  sort,  and  who  was,  moreover,  by  the  absence  of  the 
coach  deprived  of  the  power  of  availing  himself  of  his 
priority  of  choice,  amused  himself  instead  by  speculating 
upon  the  occupation  and  character  of  the  personage  who 
was  now  come  to  the  coach-office. 

He  was  a  good-looking  man  of  the  age  of  sixty,  per- 
haps older,  but  his  hale  complexion  and  firm  step  an- 
nounced that  years  had  not  impaired  his  strength  or 
health.  His  countenance  was  of  the  true  Scottish  cast, 
strongly  marked,  and  rather  harsh  in  features,  with  a 
shrewd  and  penetrating  eye,  and  a  countenance  in  which 
habitual  gravity  was  enhvened  by  a  cast  of  ironical 
humour.  His  dress  was  uniform,  and  of  a  colour  becom- 
ing his  age  and  gravity;  a  wig,  well  dressed  and  pow- 
dered, surmounted  by  a  slouched  hat,  had  something  of 
a  professional  air.  He  might  be  a  clergyman,  yet  his 
appearance  was  more  that  of  a  man  of  the  world  than 
usually  belongs  to  the  Kirk  of  Scotland,  and  his  first 
ejaculation  put  the  matter  beyond  question. 

He  arrived  with  a  hurried  pace,  and,  casting  an 
alarmed  glance  towards  the  dial-plate  of  the  church, 
then  looking  at  the  place  where  the  coach  should 
have  been,  exclaimed,  ^Deil's  in  it,  I  am  too  late  after 
all!^ 

The  young  man  relieved  his  anxiety  by  telling  him  the 
coach  had  not  yet  appeared.  The  old  gentleman,  appar- 
ently conscious  of  his  own  want  of  punctuality,  did  not 

3 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


at  first  feel  courageous  enough  to  censure  that  of  the 
coachman.  He  took  a  parcel,  containing  apparently  a 
large  folio,  from  a  little  boy  who  followed  him,  and, 
patting  him  on  the  head,  bid  him  go  back  and  tell  Mr. 

B  that,  if  he  had  known  he  was  to  have  had  so 

much  time,  he  would  have  put  another  word  or  two  to 
their  bargain;  then  told  the  boy  to  mind  his  business,  and 
he  would  be  as  thriving  a  lad  as  ever  dusted  a  duode- 
cimo. The  boy  lingered,  perhaps  in  hopes  of  a  penny 
to  buy  marbles;  but  none  was  forthcoming.  Our  senior 
leaned  his  little  bundle  upon  one  of  the  posts  at  the  head 
of  the  staircase,  and,  facing  the  traveller  who  had  first 
arrived,  waited  in  silence  for  about  five  minutes  the 
arrival  of  the  expected  diligence. 

At  length,  after  one  or  two  impatient  glances  at  the 
progress  of  the  minute-hand  of  the  clock,  having  com- 
pared it  with  his  own  watch,  a  huge  and  antique  gold 
repeater,  and  having  twitched  about  his  features  to  give 
due  emphasis  to  one  or  two  peevish  pshaws,  he  hailed 
the  old  lady  of  the  cavern. 

'  Good  woman  —  what  the  d — 1  is  her  name?  —  Mrs. 
Macleuchar!' 

Mrs.  Macleuchar,  aware  that  she  had  a  defensive  part 
to  sustain  in  the  encounter  which  was  to  follow,  was  in 
no  hurry  to  hasten  the  discussion  by  returning  a  ready 
answer. 

^Mrs.  Macleuchar  —  good  woman'  (with  an  elevated 
voice)  —  then  apart,  ^  Old  doited  hag,  she 's  as  deaf  as 
a  post.  I  say,  Mrs.  Macleuchar!' 

am  just  serving  a  customer.  Indeed,  hinny,  it  will 
no  be  a  bodle  cheaper  than  I  tell  ye.' 

^  Woman,'  reiterated  the  traveller,  ^do  you  think  we 

4 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


can  stand  here  all  day  till  you  have  cheated  that  poor 
servant  wench  out  of  her  half-year's  fee  and  bountith?  ' 

Cheated!'  retorted  Mrs.  Macleuchar,  eager  to  take 
up  the  quarrel  upon  a  defensible  ground;  scorn  your 
words,  sir;  you  are  an  uncivil  person,  and  I  desire  you 
will  not  stand  there  to  slander  me  at  my  ain  stairhead.' 

^The  woman,'  said  the  senior,  looking  with  an  arch 
glance  at  his  destined  travelling  companion,  Moes  not 
understand  the  words  of  action.  Woman,'  again  turning 
to  the  vault,  'I  arraign  not  thy  character,  but  I  desire  to 
know  what  is  become  of  thy  coach?' 

'What's  your  wull?'  answered  Mrs.  Macleuchar,  re- 
lapsing into  deafness. 

'We  have  taken  places,  ma'am,'  said  the  younger 
stranger,  'in  your  diligence  for  Queensferry.'  'Which 
should  have  been  half-way  on  the  road  before  now,'  con- 
tinued the  elder  and  more  impatient  traveller,  rising  in 
wrath  as  he  spoke;  'and  now  in  all  likelihood  we  shall 
miss  the  tide,  and  I  have  business  of  importance  on  the 
other  side;  and  your  cursed  coach  — ' 

'The  coach!  Gude  guide  us,  gentlemen,  is  it  no  on  the 
stand  yet?'  answered  the  old  lady,  her  shrill  tone  of 
expostulation  sinking  into  a  kind  of  apologetic  whine. 
'Is  it  the  coach  ye  hae  been  waiting  for?' 

'What  else  could  have  kept  us  broiling  in  the  sun  by 
the  side  of  the  gutter  here,  you  —  you  faithless  woman? 
eh?' 

Mrs.  Macleuchar  now  ascended  her  trap  stair  (for 
such  it  might  be  called,  though  constructed  of  stone), 
until  her  nose  came  upon  a  level  with  the  pavement; 
then,  after  wiping  her  spectacles  to  look  for  that  which 
she  well  knew  was  not  to  be  found,  she  exclaimedj  with 

S 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


well-feigned  astonishment,  ^  Gude  guide  us,  saw  ever  ony 
body  the  like  o'  that!' 

*  Yes,  you  abominable  woman,'  vociferated  the  travel- 
ler, 'many  have  seen  the  Uke  of  it,  and  all  will  see  the  like 
of  it  that  have  anything  to  do  with  your  troUoping  sex'; 
then,  pacing  with  great  indignation  before  the  door  of 
the  shop,  still  as  he  passed  and  repassed,  hke  a  vessel 
who  gives  her  broadside  as  she  comes  abreast  of  a  hostile 
fortress,  he  shot  down  complaints,  threats,  and  re- 
proaches on  the  embarrassed  Mrs.  Macleuchar.  He 
would  take  a  post-chaise  —  he  would  call  a  hackney- 
coach —  he  would  take  four  horses  —  he  must — he 
would  be  on  the  north  side  to-day  —  and  all  the  expense 
of  his  journey,  besides  damages,  direct  and  consequen- 
tial, arising  from  delay,  should  be  accumulated  on  the 
devoted  head  of  Mrs.  Macleuchar. 

There  was  something  so  comic  in  his  pettish  resent- 
ment that  the  younger  traveller,  who  was  in  no  such 
pressing  hurry  to  depart,  could  not  help  being  amused 
with  it,  especially  as  it  was  obvious  that  every  now  and 
then  the  old  gentleman,  though  very  angry,  could  not 
help  laughing  at  his  own  vehemence.  But  when  Mrs. 
Macleuchar  began  also  to  join  in  the  laughter,  he  quickly 
put  a  stop  to  her  ill-timed  merriment. 

'Woman,'  said  he,  'is  that  advertisement  thine?' 
showing  a  bit  of  crumpled  printed  paper.  'Does  it  not 
set  forth  that,  God  willing,  as  you  hypocritically  express 
it,  the  Hawes  fly,  or  Queensferry  diligence,  would  set 
forth  to-day  at  twelve  o'clock;  and  is  it  not,  thou  falsest 
of  creatures,  now  a  quarter  past  twelve,  and  no  such  fly 
or  diligence  to  be  seen?  Dost  thou  know  the  conse- 
quence of  seducing  the  lieges  by  false  reports?  Dost  thou 

6 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

know  it  might  be  brought  under  the  statute  of  leasing- 
making?  Answer  —  and  for  once  in  thy  long,  useless, 
and  evil  life  let  it  be  in  the  words  of  truth  and  sincerity 

—  hast  thou  such  a  coach?  Is  it  in  rerum  natura?  or  is 
this  base  annunciation  a  mere  swindle  on  the  incautious, 
to  beguile  them  of  their  time,  their  patience,  and  three 
shillings  of  sterling  money  of  this  realm?  Hast  thou, 
I  say,  such  a  coach?  ay  or  no?' 

dear,  yes,  sir;  the  neighbours  ken  the  diligence  weel 

—  green  picked  out  wi'  red,  three  yellow  wheels  and  a 
black  ane.' 

'Woman,  thy  special  description  will  not  serve;  it 
may  be  only  a  He  with  a  circumstance.' 

'0,  man,  man!'  said  the  overwhelmed  Mrs.  Macleu- 
char,  totally  exhausted  by  having  been  so  long  the  butt 
of  his  rhetoric,  *  take  back  your  three  shillings  and  mak 
me  quit  o'  ye.' 

'Not  so  fast,  not  so  fast,  woman.  Will  three  shillings 
transport  me  to  Queensferry,  agreeably  to  thy  treacher- 
ous program?  or  will  it  requite  the  damage  I  may  sus- 
tain by  leaving  my  business  undone,  or  repay  the  ex- 
penses which  I  must  disburse  if  I  am  obliged  to  tarry 
a  day  at  the  South  Ferry  for  lack  of  tide?  Will  it  hire, 
I  say,  a  pinnace,  for  which  alone  the  regular  price  is  five 
shillings?' 

Here  his  argument  was  cut  short  by  a  lumbering  noise, 
which  proved  to  be  the  advance  of  the  expected  vehicle, 
pressing  forward  with  all  the  despatch  to  which  the 
broken-winded  jades  that  drew  it  could  possibly  be 
urged.  With  ineffable  pleasure  Mrs.  Macleuchar  saw  her 
tormentor  deposited  in  the  leathern  convenience;  but 
still,  as  it  was  driving  off,  his  head  thrust  out  of  the  win- 

7 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


dow  reminded  her,  in  words  drowned  amid  the  rumbling 
of  the  wheels,  that,  if  the  diligence  did  not  attain  the 
ferry  in  time  to  save  the  flood-tide,  she,  Mrs.  Macleu- 
char,  should  be  held  responsible  for  all  the  consequences 
that  might  ensue. 

The  coach  had  continued  in  motion  for  a  mile  or  two 
before  the  stranger  had  completely  repossessed  himself 
of  his  equanimity,  as  was  manifested  by  the  doleful 
ejaculations  which  he  made  from  time  to  time  on  the  too 
great  probability,  or  even  certainty,  of  their  missing  the 
flood- tide.  By  degrees,  however,  his  wrath  subsided;  he 
wiped  his  brows,  relaxed  his  frown,  and,  undoing  the 
parcel  in  his  hand,  produced  his  folio,  on  which  he  gazed 
from  time  to  time  with  the  knowing  look  of  an  amateur, 
admiring  its  height  and  condition,  and  ascertaining,  by  a 
minute  and  individual  inspection  of  each  leaf,  that  the 
volume  was  uninjured  and  entire  from  title-page  to  colo- 
phon. His  fellow-traveller  took  the  liberty  of  inquiring 
the  subject  of  his  studies.  He  lifted  up  his  eyes  with 
something  of  a  sarcastic  glance,  as  if  he  supposed  the 
young  querist  would  not  reHsh,  or  perhaps  understand, 
his  answer,  and  pronounced  the  book  to  be  Sandy  Gor- 
don's *  Itinerarium  Septentrionale,'  a  book  illustrative 
of  the  Roman  remains  in  Scotland.  The  querist,  unap- 
palled  by  this  learned  title,  proceeded  to  put  several 
questions,  which  indicated  that  he  had  made  good  use  of 
a  good  education,  and,  although  not  possessed  of  minute 
information  on  the  subject  of  antiquities,  had  yet  ac- 
quaintance enough  with  the  classics  to  render  him  an 
interested  and  intelligent  auditor  when  they  were  en- 
larged upon.  The  elder  traveller,  observing  with  pleas- 
ure the  capacity  of  his  temporary  companion  to  under- 

8 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

stand  and  answer  him,  plunged,  nothing  loth,  into  a  sea 
of  discussion  concerning  urns,  vases,  votive  altars, 
Roman  camps,  and  the  rules  of  castrametation. 

The  pleasure  of  this  discourse  had  such  a  dulcifying 
tendency  that,  although  two  causes  of  delay  occurred, 
each  of  much  more  serious  duration  than  that  which  had 
drawn  down  his  wrath  upon  the  unlucky  Mrs.  Mac- 
leuchar,  our  Antiquary  only  bestowed  on  the  delay  the 
honour  of  a  few  episodical  poohs  and  pshaws,  which 
rather  seemed  to  regard  the  interruption  of  his  disquisi- 
tion than  the  retardation  of  his  journey. 

The  first  of  these  stops  was  occasioned  by  the  breaking 
of  a  spring,  which  half  an  hour's  labour  hardly  repaired. 
To  the  second  the  Antiquary  was  himself  accessory,  if 
not  the  principal  cause  of  it;  for,  observing  that  one  of 
the  horses  had  cast  a  fore-foot  shoe,  he  apprised  the 
coachman  of  this  important  deficiency.  ^It's  Jamie 
Martingale  that  furnishes  the  naigs  on  contract,  and  up- 
hauds  them,'  answered  John,  ^and  I  am  not  entitled  to 
make  any  stop  or  to  suffer  prejudice  by  the  like  of  these 
accidents.' 

'And  when  you  go  to  —  I  mean  to  the  place  you  de- 
serve to  go  to,  you  scoundrel  —  who  do  you  think  will 
uphold  you  on  contract?  If  you  don't  stop  directly  and 
carry  the  poor  brute  to  the  next  smithy  I'll  have  you 
punished,  if  there 's  a  justice  of  peace  in  Mid-Lothian ' ; 
and,  opening  the  coach  door,  out  he  jumped,  while  the 
coachman  obeyed  his  orders,  muttering,  that  'if  the 
gentlemen  lost  the  tide  now,  they  could  not  say  but  it 
was  their  ain  fault,  since  he  was  willing  to  get  on.' 

I  Hke  so  little  to  analyse  the  complication  of  the 
causes  which  influence  actions,  that  I  will  not  venture  to 


9 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


ascertain  whether  our  Antiquary's  humanity  to  the  poor 
horse  was  not  in  some  degree  aided  by  his  desire  of  show- 
ing his  companion  a  Pict's  camp,  or  roundabout,  a  sub- 
ject which  he  had  been  elaborately  discussing,  and  of 
which  a  specimen,  ^very  curious  and  perfect  indeed,' 
happened  to  exist  about  a  hundred  yards  distant  from 
the  spot  where  this  interruption  took  place.  But  were 
I  compelled  to  decompose  the  motives  of  my  worthy 
friend  (for  such  was  the  gentleman  in  the  sober  suit, 
with  powdered  wig  and  slouched  hat),  I  should  say  that, 
although  he  certainly  would  not  in  any  case  have  suf- 
fered the  coachman  to  proceed  while  the  horse  was  unfit 
for  service,  and  likely  to  suffer  by  being  urged  forward, 
yet  the  man  of  whipcord  escaped  some  severe  abuse  and 
reproach  by  the  agreeable  mode  which  the  traveller 
found  out  to  pass  the  interval  of  delay. 

So  much  time  was  consumed  by  these  interruptions  of 
their  journey  that,  when  they  descended  the  hill  above 
the  Hawes  (for  so  the  inn  on  the  southern  side  of  the 
Queensferry  is  denominated),  the  experienced  eye  of  the 
Antiquary  at  once  discerned,  from  the  extent  of  wet 
sand,  and  the  number  of  black  stones  and  rocks,  covered 
with  seaweed,  which  were  visible  along  the  skirts  of  the 
shore,  that  the  hour  of  tide  was  past.  The  young  travel- 
ler expected  a  burst  of  indignation;  but  whether,  as 
Croaker  says  in  '  The  Good-natured  Man,'  our  hero 
had  exhausted  himself  in  fretting  away  his  misfortunes 
beforehand,  so  that  he  did  not  feel  them  when  they  actu- 
ally arrived,  or  whether  he  found  the  company  in  which 
he  was  placed  too  congenial  to  lead  him  to  repine  at 
anything  which  delayed  his  journey,  it  is  certain  that 
he  submitted  to  his  lot  with  much  resignation. 

lO 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

^The  d — I 's  in  the  diligence  and  the  old  hag  it  belongs 
to!  Diligence,  quoth  I!  Thou  shouldst  have  called  it  the 
Sloth.  Fly,  quoth  she!  Why,  it  moves  like  a  fly  through 
a  glue-pot,  as  the  Irishman  says.  But,  however,  time 
and  tide  tarry  for  no  man;  and  so,  my  young  friend,  we  '11 
have  a  snack  here  at  the  Hawes,  which  is  a  very  decent 
sort  of  a  place,  and  I  '11  be  very  happy  to  finish  the  ac- 
count I  was  giving  you  of  the  difference  between  the 
mode  of  entrenching  castra  stativa  and  castra  (Bstiva, 
things  confounded  by  too  many  of  our  historians.  Lack- 
a-day,  if  they  had  ta'en  the  pains  to  satisfy  their  own 
eyes,  instead  of  following  each  other's  blind  guidance! 
Well!  we  shall  be  pretty  comfortable  at  the  Hawes;  and 
besides,  after  all,  we  must  have  dined  somewhere,  and  it 
will  be  pleasanter  sailing  with  the  tide  of  ebb  and  the 
evening  breeze.' 

In  this  Christian  temper  of  making  the  best  of  all 
occurrences  our  travellers  alighted  at  the  Hawes. 


CHAPTER  n 

Sir,  they  do  scandal  me  upon  the  road  here! 
A  poor  quotidian  rack  of  mutton  roasted 
Dry  to  be  grated!  and  that  driven  down 
With  beer  and  buttermilk,  mingled  together. 
It  is  against  my  freehold,  my  inheritance. 
Wine  is  the  word  that  glads  the  heart  of  man, 
And  mine's  the  house  of  wine.  Sack,  says  my  bush, 
Be  merry  and  drink  sherry,  that 's  my  posie. 

Ben  Jonson's  New  Inn, 

As  the  senior  traveller  descended  the  crazy  steps  of  the 
diligence  at  the  inn,  he  was  greeted  by  the  fat,  gouty, 
pursy  landlord  with  that  mixture  of  familiarity  and 
respect  which  the  Scotch  innkeepers  of  the  old  school 
used  to  assume  towards  their  more  valued  customers. 

*Have  a  care  o'  us,  Monkbarns  (distinguishing  him  by 
his  territorial  epithet,  always  most  agreeable  to  the  ear 
of  a  Scottish  proprietor),  is  this  you?  I  little  thought  to 
have  seen  your  honour  here  till  the  summer  session  was 
ower.' 

^Ye  donnard  auld  deevil,'  answered  his  guest,  his 
Scottish  accent  predominating  when  in  anger,  though 
otherwise  not  particularly  remarkable  —  ^ye  donnard 
auld  crippled  idiot,  what  have  I  to  do  with  the  session, 
or  the  geese  that  flock  to  it,  or  the  hawks  that  pick  their 
pinions  for  them?' 

'Troth,  and  that's  true,'  said  mine  host,  who,  in  fact, 
only  spoke  upon  a  very  general  recollection  of  the 
stranger's  original  education,  yet  would  have  been  sorry 
not  to  have  been  supposed  accurate  as  to  the  station 
and  profession  of  him  or  any  other  occasional  guest  — 
*  that's  very  true;  but  I  thought  ye  had  some  law  affair 

12 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

of  your  ain  to  look  after.  I  have  ane  mysell  —  a  ganging 
plea  that  my  father  left  me,  and  his  father  afore  left  to 
him.  It's  about  our  back-yard.  Ye '11  maybe  hae  heard 
of  it  in  the  Parliament  House,  Hutchinson  agains^ 
Mackitchinson:  it's  a  weel-kenn'd  plea;  it's  been  four 
times  in  afore  the  Fifteen,  and  deil  ony  thing  the  wisest 
o'  them  could  make  o 't,  but  just  to  send  it  out  again  to 
the  Outer  House.  O  it's  a  beautiful  thing  to  see  how 
lang  and  how  carefully  justice  is  considered  in  this 
country!' 

^Hold  your  tongue,  you  fool,'  said  the  traveller,  but  in 
great  good-humour,  ^and  tell  us  what  you  can  give  this 
young  gentleman  and  me  for  dinner.' 

^Ou  there's  fish  nae  doubt  —  that's  sea- trout  and 
caller  haddocks,'  said  Mackitchinson,  twisting  his  nap- 
kin; ^and  ye '11  be  for  a  mutton-chop,  and  there's  cran- 
berry tarts  very  weel  preserved,  and  —  and  there's  just 
ony  thing  else  ye  like.' 

'Which  is  to  say,  there  is  nothing  else  whatever? 
Well,  well,  the  fish  and  the  chop  and  the  tarts  will  do 
very  well.  But  don't  imitate  the  cautious  delay  that  you 
praise  in  the  courts  of  justice.  Let  there  be  no  remits 
from  the  inner  to  the  outer  house,  hear  ye  me?' 

^Na,  na,'  said  Mackitchinson,  whose  long  and  heedful 
perusal  of  volumes  of  printed  session  papers  had  made 
him  acquainted  with  some  law  phrases  —  '  the  denner 
shall  be  served  quamprimum,  and  that  peremptorie,^ 
And  with  the  flattering  laugh  of  a  promising  host,  he  left 
them  in  his  sanded  parlour,  hung  with  prints  of  the 
Four  Seasons. 

As,  notwithstanding  his  pledge  to  the  contrary,  the 
glorious  delays  of  the  law  were  not  without  their  parallel 

13 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


in  the  kitchen  of  the  inn,  our  younger  traveller  had  an 
opportunity  to  step  out  and  make  some  inquiry  of  the 
people  of  the  house  concerning  the  rank  and  station  of 
his  companion.  The  information  which  he  received  was 
of  a  general  and  less  authentic  nature,  but  quite  suf- 
ficient to  make  him  acquainted  with  the  name,  history, 
and  circumstances  of  the  gentleman,  whom  we  shall 
endeavour  in  a  few  words  to  introduce  more  accurately 
to  our  readers. 

Jonathan  Oldenbuck,  or  Oldinbuck,  by  popular  con- 
traction Oldbuck,  of  Monkbams,  was  the  second  son  of 
a  gentleman  possessed  of  a  small  property  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  a  thriving  seaport  town  on  the  north-east- 
ern coast  of  Scotland,  which,  for  various  reasons,  we 
shall  denominate  F airport.  They  had  been  estabHshed 
for  several  generations  as  landholders  in  the  county,  and 
in  most  shires  of  England  would  have  been  accounted  a 

family  of  some  standing.  But  the  shire  of  was  filled 

with  gentlemen  of  more  ancient  descent  and  larger  fortune. 
In  the  last  generation  also  the  neighbouring  gentry  had 
been  almost  uniformly  Jacobites,  while  the  proprietors 
of  Monkbarns,  Hke  the  burghers  of  the  town  near  which 
they  were  settled,  were  steady  assertors  of  the  Protest- 
ant succession.  The  latter  had,  however,  a  pedigree  of 
their  own,  on  which  they  prided  themselves  as  much  as 
those  who  despised  them  valued  their  respective  Saxon, 
Norman,  or  Celtic  genealogies.  The  first  Oldenbuck, 
who  had  settled  in  their  family  mansion  shortly  after  the 
Reformation,  was,  they  asserted,  descended  from  one  of 
the  original  printers  of  Germany,  and  had  left  his  coun- 
try in  consequence  of  the  persecutions  directed  against 
the  professors  of  the  Reformed  religion.  He  had  found 

14 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

a  refuge  in  the  town  near  which  his  posterity  dwelt,  the 
more  readily  that  he  was  a  sufferer  in  the  Protestant 
cause,  and  certainly  not  the  less  so  that  he  brought 
with  him  money  enough  to  purchase  the  small  estate  of 
Monkbams,  then  sold  by  a  dissipated  laird,  to  whose 
father  it  had  been  gifted,  with  other  church  lands,  on  the 
dissolution  of  the  great  and  wealthy  monastery  to  which 
it  had  belonged.  The  Oldenbucks  were  therefore  loyal 
subjects  on  all  occasions  of  insurrection;  and,  as  they 
kept  up  a  good  intelligence  with  the  borough,  it  chanced 
that  the  Laird  of  Monkbarns  who  flourished  in  1745  was 
provost  of  the  town  during  that  ill-fated  year,  and  had 
exerted  himself  with  much  spirit  in  favour  of  King 
George,  and  even  been  put  to  expenses  on  that  score, 
which,  according  to  the  liberal  conduct  of  the  existing 
government  towards  their  friends,  had  never  been  repaid 
him.  By  dint  of  solicitation,  however,  and  borough  in- 
terest, he  contrived  to  gain  a  place  in  the  customs,  and, 
being  a  frugal,  careful  man,  had  found  himself  enabled 
to  add  considerably  to  his  paternal  fortune.  He  had  only 
two  sons,  of  whom,  as  we  have  hinted,  the  present  laird 
was  the  younger,  and  two  daughters,  one  of  whom  still 
flourished  in  single  blessedness,  and  the  other,  who  was 
greatly  more  juvenile,  made  a  love-match  with  a  captain 
in  the  'Forty-twa,'  who  had  no  other  fortune  but  his 
commission  and  a  Highland  pedigree.  Poverty  dis- 
turbed a  union  which  love  would  otherwise  have  made 
happy,  and  Captain  M' In  tyre,  in  justice  to  his  wife  and 
two  children,  a  boy  and  girl,  had  found  himself  obliged 
to  seek  his  fortune  in  the  East  Indies.  Being  ordered 
upon  an  expedition  against  Hyder  Ally,  the  detachment 
to  which  he  belonged  was  cut  oflf,  and  no  news  ever 

IS 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


reached  his  unfortunate  wife  whether  he  fell  in  battle,  or 
was  murdered  in  prison,  or  survived  in  what  the  habits 
of  the  Indian  tyrant  rendered  a  hopeless  captivity.  She 
sunk  under  the  accumulated  load  of  grief  and  uncer- 
tainty, and  left  a  son  and  daughter  to  the  charge  of  her 
brother,  the  existing  laird  of  Monkbarns. 

The  history  of  that  proprietor  himself  is  soon  told. 
Being,  as  we  have  said,  a  second  son,  his  father  destined 
him  to  a  share  in  a  substantial  mercantile  concern 
carried  on  by  some  of  his  maternal  relations.  From  this 
Jonathan's  mind  revolted  in  the  most  irreconcilable 
manner.  He  was  then  put  apprentice  to  the  profession 
of  a  writer  or  attorney,  in  which  he  profited  so  far  that 
he  made  himself  master  of  the  whole  forms  of  feudal 
investitures,  and  showed  such  pleasure  in  reconciling, 
their  incongruities  and  tracing  their  origin  that  his 
master  had  great  hope  he  would  one  day  be  an  able 
conveyancer.  But  he  halted  upon  the  threshold,  and, 
though  he  acquired  some  knowledge  of  the  origin  and 
system  of  the  law  of  his  country,  he  could  never  be  per- 
suaded to  apply  it  to  lucrative  and  practical  purposes. 
It  was  not  from  any  inconsiderate  neglect  of  the  ad- 
vantages attending  the  possession  of  money  that  he  thus 
deceived  the  hopes  of  his  master.  ^  Were  he  thoughtless 
or  Hght-headed,  or  rei  suce  prodigus,^  said  his  instructor, 
'  I  would  know  what  to  make  of  him.  But  he  never  pays 
away  a  shilling  without  looking  anxiously  after  the 
change,  makes  his  sixpence  go  farther  than  another 
lad's  half-crown,  and  will  ponder  over  an  old  black- 
letter  copy  of  the  Acts  of  Parliament  for  days,  rather 
than  go  to  the  golf  or  the  change-house;  and  yet  he  will 
not  bestow  one  of  these  days  on  a  little  business  of 

i6 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


routine  that  would  put  twenty  shillings  in  his  pocket  — 
a  strange  mixture  of  frugality  and  industry  and  neg- 
ligent indolence;  I  don't  know  what  to  make  of  him.' 

But  in  process  of  time  his  pupil  gained  the  means 
of  making  what  he  pleased  of  himself;  for,  his  father 
having  died  was  not  long  survived  by  his  eldest  son,  an 
arrant  fisher  and  fowler,  who  departed  this  life  in  con- 
sequence of  a  cold  caught  in  his  vocation,  while  shooting 
ducks  in  the  swamp  called  Klittlefitting  Moss,  notwith- 
standing his  having  drunk  a  bottle  of  brandy  that  very 
night  to  keep  the  cold  out  of  his  stomach.  Jonathan, 
therefore,  succeeded  to  the  estate,  and  with  it  to  the 
means  of  subsisting  without  the  hated  drudgery  of  the 
law.  His  wishes  were  very  moderate;  and,  as  the  rent  of 
his  small  property  rose  with  the  improvement  of  the 
country,  it  soon  greatly  exceeded  his  wants  and  expend- 
iture; and,  though  too  indolent  to  make  money,  he  was 
by  no  means  insensible  to  the  pleasure  of  beholding  it 
accumulate.  The  burghers  of  the  town  near  which  he 
lived  regarded  him  with  a  sort  of  envy,  as  one  who  af- 
fected to  divide  himself  from  their  rank  in  society,  and 
whose  studies  and  pleasures  seemed  to  them  alike  in- 
comprehensible. Still,  however,  a  sort  of  hereditary 
respect  for  the  Laird  of  Monkbarns,  augmented  by  the 
knowledge  of  his  being  a  ready-money  man,  kept  up  his 
consequence  with  this  class  of  his  neighbours.  The 
country  gentlemen  were  generally  above  him  in  fortune 
and  beneath  him  in  intellect,  and,  excepting  one  with 
whom  he  lived  in  habits  of  intimacy,  had  Kttle  inter- 
course with  Mr.  Oldbuck  of  Monkbarns.  He  had,  how- 
ever, the  usual  resources,  the  company  of  the  clergyman 
and  of  the  doctor,  when  he  chose  to  request  it,  and  also 


5 


17 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


his  own  pursuits  and  pleasures,  being  in  correspondence 
with  most  of  the  virtuosi  of  his  time,  who,  Uke  himself, 
measured  decayed  entrenchments,  made  plans  of  ruined 
castles,  read  illegible  inscriptions,  and  wrote  essays  on 
medals  in  the  proportion  of  twelve  pages  to  each  letter 
of  the  legend.  Some  habits  of  hasty  irritation  he  had 
contracted,  partly,  it  was  said  in  the  borough  of  Fair- 
port,  from  an  early  disappointment  in  love,  in  virtue  of 
which  he  had  commenced  misogynist,  as  he  called  it,  but 
yet  more  by  the  obsequious  attention  paid  to  him  by  his 
maiden  sister  and  his  orphan  niece,  whom  he  had  trained 
to  consider  him  as  the  greatest  man  upon  earth,  and 
whom  he  used  to  boast  of  as  the  only  women  he  had  ever 
seen  who  were  well  broke  in  and  bitted  to  obedience; 
though,  it  must  be  owned,  Miss  Grizzy  Oldbuck  was 
sometimes  apt  to  jibb  when  he  pulled  the  reins  too  tight. 
The  rest  of  his  character  must  be  gathered  from  the 
story,  and  we  dismiss  with  pleasure  the  tiresome  task  of 
recapitulation. 

During  the  time  of  dinner  Mr.  Oldbuck,  actuated  by 
the  same  curiosity  which  his  fellow-traveller  had  enter- 
tained on  his  account,  made  some  advances,  which  his 
age  and  station  entitled  him  to  do  in  a  more  direct  man- 
ner, towards  ascertaining  the  name,  destination,  and 
quality  of  his  young  companion. 

His  name,  the  young  gentleman  said,  was  Lovel. 

'What!  the  cat,  the  rat,  and  Lovel  our  dog?  Was  he 
descended  from  King  Richard's  favourite?' 

'He  had  no  pretensions,'  he  said,  'to  call  himself  a 
whelp  of  that  Utter;  his  father  was  a  North  of  England 
gentleman.  He  was  at  present  travelling  to  Fairport 
(the  town  near  to  which  Monkbarns  was  situated),  and, 

i8 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


if  he  found  the  place  agreeable,  might  perhaps  remain 
there  for  some  weeks/ 

'Was  Mr.  LoveFs  excursion  solely  for  pleasure?' 

'Not  entirely.' 

'Perhaps  on  business  with  some  of  the  commercial 
people  of  Fairport? ' 

'It  was  partly  on  business,  but  had  no  reference  to 
commerce.' 

Here  he  paused;  and  Mr.  Oldbuck,  having  pushed  his 
inquiries  as  far  as  good  manners  permitted,  was  obliged 
to  change  the  conversation.  The  Antiquary,  though  by 
no  means  an  enemy  to  good  cheer,  was  a  determined  foe 
to  all  unnecessary  expense  on  a  journey;  and,  upon  his 
companion  giving  a  hint  concerning  a  bottle  of  port 
wine,  he  drew  a  direful  picture  of  the  mixture  which,  he 
said,  was  usually  sold  under  that  denomination,  and, 
afl&rming  that  a  little  punch  was  more  genuine  and  bet- 
ter suited  for  the  season,  he  laid  his  hand  upon  the  bell 
to  order  the  materials.  But  Mackitchinson  had,  in  his 
own  mind,  settled  their  beverage  otherwise,  and  ap- 
peared bearing  in  his  hand  an  immense  double  quart 
bottle,  or  magnum,  as  it  is  called  in  Scotland,  covered 
with  sawdust  and  cobwebs,  the  warrants  of  its  antiquity. 

'Punch!'  said  he,  catching  that  generous  sound  as  he 
entered  the  parlour, '  the  deil  a  drap  punch  ye'se  get  here 
the  day,  Monkbarns,  and  that  ye  may  lay  your  account 
wi'.' 

'  What  do  you  mean,  you  impudent  rascal?  ^ 
'Ay,  ay,  it's  nae  matter  for  that;  but  do  you  mind  the 
trick  ye  served  me  the  last  time  ye  were  here? ' 
'  I  trick  you ! ' 

'Ay,  just  yoursell,  Monkbarns.  The  Laird  o'  Tam- 


19 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


lowrie,  and  Sir  Gilbert  Grizzlecleugh,  and  Auld  Ross- 
balloh,  and  the  Bailie  were  just  setting  in  to  make  an 
afternoon  o't,  and  you,  wi'  some  your  auld  warld 
stories,  that  the  mind  o'  man  canna  resist,  whirl'd  them 
to  the  back  o'  beyont  to  look  at  the  auld  Roman  camp  — 
ah,  sir!'  turning  to  Lovel,  'he  wad  wile  the  bird  aff  the 
tree  wi'  the  tales  he  tells  about  folk  lang  syne  —  and  did 
not  I  lose  the  drinking  o'  sax  pints  o'  gude  claret,  for 
the  deil  ane  wad  hae  stirred  till  he  had  seen  that  out  at 
the  least?' 

'  D '  ye  hear  the  impudent  scoundrel ! '  said  Monkbarns, 
but  laughing  at  the  same  time;  for  the  worthy  landlord, 
as  he  used  to  boast,  knew  the  measure  of  a  guest's  foot 
as  well  as  e'er  a  souter  on  this  side  Solway;  Veil,  well, 
you  may  send  us  in  a  bottle  of  port.' 

'Port!  na,  na!  ye  maun  leave  port  and  punch  to  the 
like  o'  us,  it's  claret  that's  fit  for  you  lairds;  and  I  dare- 
say nane  of  the  folk  ye  speak  so  much  o'  ever  drank 
either  of  the  twa.' 

'Do  you  hear  how  absolute  the  knave  is?  Well,  my 
young  friend,  we  must  for  once  prefer  the  Falernian  to 
the  vile  Sabinum.^ 

The  ready  landlord  had  the  cork  instantly  extracted, 
decanted  the  wine  into  a  vessel  of  suitable  capacious- 
ness, and,  declaring  it  'parfumed'  the  very  room,  left 
his  guests  to  make  the  most  of  it. 

Mackitchinson's  wine  was  really  good,  and  had  its 
effect  upon  the  spirits  of  the  elder  guest,  who  told  some 
good  stories,  cut  some  sly  jokes,  and  at  length  entered 
into  a  learned  discussion  concerning  the  ancient  drama- 
tists; a  ground  on  which  he  found  his  new  acquaintance 
so  strong  that  at  length  he  began  to  suspect  he  had  made 

20 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

them  his  professional  study.  'A  traveller  partly  for 
business  and  partly  for  pleasure?  Why,  the  stage  par- 
takes of  both;  it  is  a  labour  to  the  performers,  and  af- 
fords, or  is  meant  to  afford,  pleasure  to  the  spectators. 
He  seems  in  manner  and  rank  above  the  class  of  young 
men  who  take  that  turn;  but  I  remember  hearing  them 
say  that  the  little  theatre  at  Fairport  was  to  open  with 
the  performance  of  a  young  gentleman,  being  his  first 
appearance  on  any  stage.  If  this  should  be  thee,  Lovel? 
Lovel !  Yes,  Lovel  or  Belville  are  just  the  names  which 
youngsters  are  apt  to  assume  on  such  occasions.  On  my 
life,  I  am  sorry  for  the  lad.' 

Mr.  Oldbuck  was  habitually  parsimonious,  but  in  no 
respects  mean;  his  first  thought  was  to  save  his  fellow- 
traveller  any  part  of  the  expense  of  the  entertainment, 
which  he  supposed  must  be  in  his  situation  more  or  less 
inconvenient.  He  therefore  took  an  opportunity  of 
settling  privately  with  Mr.  Mackitchinson.  The  young 
traveller  remonstrated  against  his  Hberahty,  and  only 
acquiesced  in  deference  to  his  years  and  respectabihty. 

The  mutual  satisfaction  which  they  found  in  each 
other's  society  induced  Mr.  Oldbuck  to  propose,  and 
Lovel  willingly  to  accept,  a  scheme  for  traveUing  to- 
gether to  the  end  of  their  journey.  Mr.  Oldbuck  intim- 
ated a  wish  to  pay  two-thirds  of  the  hire  of  a  post- 
chaise,  saying,  that  a  proportional  quantity  of  room 
was  necessary  to  his  accommodation;  but  this  Mr.  Lovel 
resolutely  declined.  Their  expense  then  was  mutual, 
unless  when  Lovel  occasionally  slipt  a  shilKng  into  the 
hand  of  a  growling  postilion ;  for  Oldbuck,  tenacious  of 
ancient  customs,  never  extended  his  guerdon  beyond 
eighteenpence  a  stage.  In  this  manner  they  travelled, 

21 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


until  they  arrived  at  Fairport  about  two  o'clock  on  the 
following  day. 

Lovel  probably  expected  that  his  travelling  compan- 
ion would  have  invited  him  to  dinner  on  his  arrival;  but 
his  consciousness  of  a  want  of  ready  preparation  for 
unexpected  guests,  and  perhaps  some  other  reasons, 
prevented  Oldbuck  from  paying  him  that  attention.  He 
only  begged  to  see  him  as  early  as  he  could  make  it  con- 
venient to  call  in  a  forenoon,  recommended  him  to  a 
widow  who  had  apartments  to  let,  and  to  a  person  who 
kept  a  decent  ordinary;  cautioning  both  of  them  apart 
that  he  only  knew  Mr.  Lovel  as  a  pleasant  companion  in 
a  post-chaise,  and  did  not  mean  to  guarantee  any  bills 
which  he  might  contract  while  residing  at  Fairport.  The 
young  gentleman's  figure  and  manners,  not  to  mention 
a  well-furnished  trunk  which  soon  arrived  by  sea  to  his 
address  at  Fairport,  probably  went  as  far  in  his  favour 
as  the  limited  recommendation  of  his  fellow-traveller. 


CHAPTER  III 


He  had  a  routh  o*  auld  nick-nackets, 
Rusty  aim  caps,  and  jinglio  jackets,  » 
Would  held  the  Loudons  three  in  tackets 

A  towmond  gude; 
And  parritch-pats,  and  auld  saut-backets, 

Afore  the  flude. 

Burns. 

After  he  had  settled  himself  in  his  new  apartments  at 
Fairport,  Mr.  Lovel  bethought  him  of  paying  the  re- 
quested visit  to  his  fellow-traveller.  He  did  not  make  it 
earlier  because,  with  all  the  old  gentleman's  good- 
humour  and  information,  there  had  sometimes  glanced 
forth  in  his  language  and  manner  towards  him  an  air  of 
superiority  which  his  companion  considered  as  being 
fully  beyond  what  the  difference  of  age  warranted.  He 
therefore  waited  the  arrival  of  his  baggage  from  Edin- 
burgh, that  he  might  arrange  his  dress  according  to  the 
fashion  of  the  day,  and  make  his  exterior  corresponding 
to  the  rank  in  society  which  he  supposed  or  felt  himself 
entitled  to  hold. 

It  was  the  fifth  day  after  his  arrival  that,  having  made 
the  necessary  inquiries  concerning  the  road,  he  went 
forth  to  pay  his  respects  at  Monkbarns.  A  footpath 
leading  over  a  heathy  hill  and  through  two  or  three 
meadows  conducted  him  to  this  mansion,  which  stood 
on  the  opposite  side  of  the  hill  aforesaid,  and  com- 
manded a  fine  prospect  of  the  bay  and  shipping.  Se- 
cluded from  the  town  by  the  rising  ground,  which  also 
screened  it  from  the  north-west  wind,  the  house  had  a 
solitary  and  sheltered  appearance.  The  exterior  had 


23 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


Httle  to  recommend  it.  It  was  an  irregular  old-fashioned 
building,  some  part  of  which  had  belonged  to  a  grange 
or  solitary  farm-house,  inhabited  by  the  bailiff  or  stew- 
ard of  the  monastery  when  the  place  was  in  possession 
of  the  monks.  It  was  here  that  the  community  stored  up 
the  grain  which  they  received  as  ground-rent  from  their 
vassals;  for,  with  the  prudence  belonging  to  their  order, 
all  their  conventional  revenues  were  made  payable  in 
kind,  and  hence,  as  the  present  proprietor  loved  to  tell, 
came  the  name  of  Monkbarns.  To  the  remains  of  the 
bailiff's  house  the  succeeding  lay  inhabitants  had  made 
various  additions  in  proportion  to  the  accommodation 
required  by  their  families;  and,  as  this  was  done  with  an 
equal  contempt  of  convenience  within  and  architectural 
regularity  without,  the  whole  bore  the  appearance  of  a 
hamlet  which  had  suddenly  stood  still  when  in  the  act 
of  leading  down  one  of  Amphion's  or  Orpheus's  country- 
dances.  It  was  surrounded  by  tall  clipped  hedges  of  yew 
and  holly,  some  of  which  still  exhibited  the  skill  of  the 
Hopiarian'  artist,  and  presented  curious  arm-chairs, 
towers,  and  the  figures  of  Saint  George  and  the  dragon. 
The  taste  of  Mr.  Oldbuck  did  not  disturb  these  monu- 
ments of  an  art  now  unknown,  and  he  was  the  less 
tempted  so  to  do  as  it  must  necessarily  have  broken  the 
heart  of  the  old  gardener.  One  tall  embowering  holly 
was,  however,  sacred  from  the  shears;  and  on  a  garden 
seat  beneath  its  shade  Lovel  beheld  his  old  friend,  with 
spectacles  on  nose  and  pouch  on  side,  busily  employed 
in  perusing  the  *  London  Chronicle '  —  soothed  by  the 
summer  breeze  through  the  rustling  leaves  and  the 
distant  dash  of  the  waves  as  they  rippled  upon  the  sand. 
Mr.  Oldbuck  immediately  rose  and  advanced  to  greet 
24 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

his  travelling  acquaintance  with  a  hearty  shake  of  the 
hand.  *By  my  faith/  said  he,  *I  began  to  think  you  had 
changed  your  mind,  and  found  the  stupid  people  of 
Fairport  so  tiresome  that  you  judged  them  unworthy  of 
your  talents,  and  had  taken  French  leave,  as  my  old 
friend  and  brother  antiquary  Mac-Cribb  did,  when  he 
went  off  with  one  of  my  Syrian  medals/ 

*I  hope,  my  good  sir,  I  should  have  fallen  under  no 
such  imputation.'  ' 

^  Quite  as  bad,  let  me  tell  you,  if  you  had  stolen  your- 
self away  without  giving  me  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you 
again.  I  had  rather  you  had  taken  my  copper  Otho 
himself.  But  come,  let  me  show  you  the  way  into  my 
sanctum  sanctorum,  my  cell  I  may  call  it,  for,  except  two 
idle  hussies  of  womankind  (by  this  contemptuous 
phrase,  borrowed  from  his  brother  antiquary  the  cynic 
Anthony  a'  Wood,  Mr.  Oldbuck  was  used  to  denote  the 
fair  sex  in  general,  and  his  sister  and  niece  in  particular), 
that,  on  some  idle  pretext  of  relationship,  have  estab- 
lished themselves  in  my  premises,  I  live  here  as  much  a 
ccenobite  as  my  predecessor  John  o'  the  Girnell,  whose 
grave  I  will  show  you  by  and  by.' 

Thus  speaking,  the  old  gentleman  led  the  way  through 
a  low  door;  but,  before  entrance,  suddenly  stopped  short 
to  point  out  some  vestiges  of  what  he  called  an  inscrip- 
tion, and,  shaking  his  head  as  he  pronounced  it  totally 
illegible,  *Ah!  if  you  but  knew,  Mr.  Lovel,  the  time  and 
trouble  that  these  mouldering  traces  of  letters  have  cost 
me!  No  mother  ever  travailed  so  for  a  child,  and  all  to 
no  purpose;  although  I  am  almost  positive  that  these 
two  last  marks  imply  the  figures  or  letters  LV,  and  may 
give  us  a  good  guess  at  the  real  date  of  the  building,  since 

25 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


we  know,  aliunde,  that  it  was  founded  by  Abbot  Waldi- 
mir  about  the  middle  of  the  fourteenth  century.  And, 
I  profess,  I  think  that  centre  ornament  might  be  made 
out  by  better  eyes  than  mine/ 

think,'  answered  Lovel,  wiUing  to  humour  the  old 
man,  'it  has  something  the  appearance  of  a  mitre/ 

*  I  protest  you  are  right !  you  are  right !  it  never  struck 
me  before.  See  what  it  is  to  have  younger  eyes.  A 
mitre  —  a  mitre !  it  corresponds  in  every  respect.' 

The  resemblance  was  not  much  nearer  than  that  of 
Polonius's  cloud  to  a  whale  or  an  owzel;  it  was  sufficient, 
however,  to  set  the  Antiquary's  brains  to  work.  'A 
mitre,  my  dear  sir,'  continued  he,  as  he  led  the  way 
through  a  labyrinth  of  inconvenient  and  dark  passages, 
and  accompanied  his  disquisition  with  certain  necessary 
cautions  to  his  guest  —  'a  mitre,  my  dear  sir,  will  suit 
our  abbot  as  well  as  a  bishop;  he  was  a  mitred  abbot, 
and  at  the  very  top  of  the  roll  —  take  care  of  these  three 
steps  —  I  know  Mac-Cribb  denies  this,  but  it  is  as  certain 
as  that  he  took  away  my  Antigonus,  no  leave  asked. 
You'll  see  the  name  of  the  Abbot  of  Trotcosey,  Abbas 
Trottocosiensis,  at  the  head  of  the  rolls  of  parliament  in 
the  fourteenth  and  fifteenth  centuries  —  there  is  very 
little  light  here,  and  these  cursed  womankind  always 
leave  their  tubs  in  the  passage.  Now  take  care  of  the 
corner;  ascend  twelve  steps  and  ye  are  safe!' 

Mr.  Oldbuck  had  by  this  time  attained  the  top  of  the 
winding  stair  which  led  to  his  own  apartment,  and, 
opening  a  door  and  pushing  aside  a  piece  of  tapestry 
with  which  it  was  covered,  his  first  exclamation  was, 
'What  are  you  about  here,  you  sluts?'  A  dirty  bare- 
footed chambermaid  threw  down  her  duster,  detected  in 

26 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

the  heinous  fact  of  arranging  the  sanctum  sanctorum ,  and 
fled  out  of  an  opposite  door  from  the  face  of  her  incensed 
master.  A  genteel-looking  young  woman,  who  was  su- 
perintending the  operation,  stood  her  ground,  but  with 
some  timidity. 

'Indeed,  uncle,  your  room  was  not  fit  to  be  seen,  and  I 
just  came  to  see  that  Jenny  laid  everything  down  where 
she  took  it  up.' 

^And  how  dare  you,  or  Jenny  either,  presume  to 
meddle  with  my  private  matters? '  (Mr.  Oldbuck  hated 
'putting  to  rights'  as  much  as  Dr.  Orkborne  or  any  other 
professed  student.)  ^  Go  sew  your  sampler,  you  monkey, 
and  do  not  let  me  find  you  here  again,  as  you  value  your 
ears.  I  assure  you,  Mr.  Lovel,  that  the  last  inroad  of 
these  pretended  friends  to  cleanliness  was  almost  as  fatal 
to  my  collection  as  Hudibras's  visit  to  that  of  Sidrophel; 
and  I  have  ever  since  missed 

My  copperplate,  with  almanacks 
Engraved  upon 't,  and  other  knacks; 
My  moon-dial,  with  Napier's  bones, 
And  several  constellation  stones; 
My  flea,  my  morpion,  and  punaise, 
I  purchased  for  my  proper  ease. 

And  so  forth,  as  old  Butler  has  it.' 

The  young  lady,  after  curtsying  to  Lovel,  had  taken 
the  opportunity  to  make  her  escape  during  this  enumer- 
ation of  losses.  ^You'll  be  poisoned  here  with  the  vol- 
umes of  dust  they  have  raised,'  continued  the  Anti- 
quary; *but  I  assure  you  the  dust  was  very  ancient, 
peaceful,  quiet  dust  about  an  hour  ago,  and  would  have 
remained  so  for  a  hundred  years  had  not  these  gipsies 
disturbed  it,  as  they  do  everything  else  in  the  world.' 

27 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

It  was,  indeed,  some  time  before  Lovel  could,  through 
the  thick  atmosphere,  perceive  in  what  sort  of  den  his 
friend  had  constructed  his  retreat.  It  was  a  lofty  room 
of  middling  size,  obscurely  hghted  by  high  narrow  lat- 
ticed windows.  One  end  was  entirely  occupied  by  book- 
shelves, greatly  too  limited  in  space  for  the  number  of 
volumes  placed  upon  them,  which  were,  therefore,  drawn 
up  in  ranks  of  two  or  three  files  deep,  while  numberless 
others  Uttered  the  floor  and  the  tables,  amid  a  chaos  of 
maps,  engravings,  scraps  of  parchment,  bundles  of 
papers,  pieces  of  old  armour,  swords,  dirks,  helmets,  and 
Highland  targets.  Behind  Mr.  Oldbuck's  seat  (which 
was  an  ancient  leathern-covered  easy-chair,  worn 
smooth  by  constant  use)  was  a  huge  oaken  cabinet, 
decorated  at  each  corner  with  Dutch  cherubs,  having 
their  little  duck-wings  displayed  and  great  jolter-headed 
visages  placed  between  thern.  The  top  of  this  cabinet 
was  covered  with  busts  and  Roman  lamps  and  paterae, 
intermingled  with  one  or  two  bronze  figures.  The  walls 
of  the  apartment  were  partly  clothed  with  grim  old 
tapestry,  representing  the  memorable  story  of  Sir 
Gawaine's  wedding,  in  which  full  justice  was  done  to 
the  ugliness  of  the  Lothely  Lady;  although,  to  judge 
from  his  own  looks,  the  gentle  knight  had  less  reason  to 
be  disgusted  with  the  match  on  account  of  disparity  of 
outward  favour  than  the  romancer  has  given  us  to  under- 
stand. The  rest  of  the  room  was  panelled  or  wainscotted 
with  black  oak,  against  which  hung  two  or  three  por- 
traits in  armour,  being  characters  in  Scottish  history, 
favourites  of  Mr.  Oldbuck,  and  as  many  in  tie-wigs  and 
laced  coats,  staring  representatives  of  his  own  ancestors. 
A  large  old-fashioned  oaken  table  was  covered  with  a 

28 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

profusion  of  papers,  parchments,  books,  and  nondescript 
trinkets  and  gewgaws,  which  seemed  to  have  httle  to 
recommend  them  besides  rust  and  the  antiquity  which 
it  indicates.  In  the  midst  of  this  wreck  of  ancient  books 
and  utensils,  with  a  gravity  equal  to  Marius  among  the 
ruins  of  Carthage,  sat  a  large  black  cat,  which  to  a  su- 
perstitious eye  might  have  presented  the  genius  lociy  the 
tutelar  demon  of  the  apartment.  The  floor,  as  well  as 
the  table  and  chairs,  was  overflowed  by  the  same  mare 
magnum  of  miscellaneous  trumpery,  where  it  would 
have  been  as  impossible  to  find  any  individual  article 
wanted  as  to  put  it  to  any  use  when  discovered. 

Amid  this  medley  it  was  no  easy  matter  to  find  one's 
way  to  a  chair  without  stumbling  over  a  prostrate  folio, 
or  the  still  more  awkward  mischance  of  overturning 
some  piece  of  Roman  or  ancient  British  pottery.  And 
when  the  chair  was  attained,  it  had  to  be  disencumbered 
with  a  careful  hand  of  engravings  which  might  have  re- 
ceived damage,  and  of  antique  spurs  and  buckles  which 
would  certainly  have  occasioned  it  to  any  sudden  occu- 
pant. Of  this  the  Antiquary  made  Lovel  particularly 
aware,  adding,  that  his  friend,  the  Rev.  Doctor  Heavy- 
sterne  from  the  Low  Countries,  had  sustained  much  in- 
jury by  sitting  down  suddenly  and  incautiously  on  three 
ancient  calthrops  or  '  craw-taes'  which  had  been  lately 
dug  up  in  the  bog  near  Bannockburn,  and  which,  dis- 
persed by  Robert  Bruce  to  lacerate  the  feet  of  the  Eng- 
lish chargers,  came  thus  in  process  of  time  to  endamage 
the  sitting  part  of  a  learned  professor  of  Utrecht. 

Having  at  length  fairly  settled  himself,  and  being 
nothing  loath  to  make  inquiry  concerning  the  strange 
objects  around  him,  which  his  host  was  equally  ready, 

29 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


as  far  as  possible,  to  explain,  Lovel  was  introduced  to  a 
large  club  or  bludgeon,  with  an  iron  spike  at  the  end  of 
it,  which,  it  seems,  had  been  lately  found  in  a  field  on 
the  Monkbarns  property,  adjacent  to  an  old  burying- 
ground.  It  had  mightily  the  air  of  such  a  stick  as  the 
Highland  reapers  use  to  walk  with  on  their  annual  pere- 
grinations from  their  mountains;  but  Mr.  Oldbuck  was 
strongly  tempted  to  believe  that,  as  its  shape  was  singu- 
lar, it  might  have  been  one  of  the  clubs  with  which  the 
monks  armed  their  peasants  in  Heu  of  more  martial 
weapons,  whence,  he  observed,  the  villains  were  called 
'Colve-carles,'  or  ^Kolb-kerls,'  that  is,  clavigeri,  or  club- 
bearers.  For  the  truth  of  this  custom  he  quoted  the 
^Chronicle'  of  Antwerp  and  that  of  Saint  Martin; 
against  Which  authorities  Lovel  had  nothing  to  oppose, 
having  never  heard  of  them  till  that  moment. 

Mr.  Oldbuck  next  exhibited  thumb-screws,  which  had 
given  the  Covenanters  of  former  days  the  cramp  in  their 
joints,  and  a  collar  with  the  name  of  a  fellow  convicted 
of  theft,  whose  services,  as  the  inscription  bore,  had  been 
adjudged  to  a  neighbouring  baron  in  Heu  of  the  modern 
Scottish  punishment,  which,  as  Oldbuck  said,  sends 
such  culprits  to  enrich  England  by  their  labour  and 
themselves  by  their  dexterity.  Many  and  various  were 
the  other  curiosities  which  he  showed;  but  it  was  chiefly 
upon  his  books  that  he  prided  himself,  repeating  with  a 
complacent  air,  as  he  led  the  way  to  the  crowded  and 
dusty  shelves,  the  verses  of  old  Chaucer  — 

'For  he  would  rather  have,  at  his  bed-head, 
A  twenty  books,  clothed  in  black  or  red, 
Of  Aristotle,  or  his  philosophy, 
Than  robes  rich,  rebeck,  or  saltery.' 

30 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

This  pithy  motto  he  delivered,  shaking  his  head,  and 
giving  each  guttural  the  true  Anglo-Saxon  enunciation, 
which  is  now  forgotten  in  the  southern  parts  of  this 
realm. 

The  collection  was,  indeed,  a  curious  one,  and  might 
well  be  envied  by  an  amateur.  Yet  it  was  not  collected 
at  the  enormous  prices  of  modern  times,  which  are  suffi- 
cient to  have  appalled  the  most  determined,  as  well  as 
earliest,  bibliomaniac  upon  record,  whom  we  take  to 
have  been  none  else  than  the  renowned  Don  Quixote  de 
la  Mancha,  as,  among  other  slight  indications  of  an 
infirm  understanding,  he  is  stated  by  his  veracious 
historian  Cid  Hamet  Benengeli  to  have  exchanged  fields 
and  farms  for  folios  and  quartos  of  chivalry.  In  this 
species  of  exploit  the  good  knight-errant  has  been  imi- 
tated by  lords,  knights,  and  squires  of  our  own  day, 
though  we  have  not  yet  heard  of  any  that  has  mistaken 
an  inn  for  a  castle,  or  laid  his  lance  in  rest  against  a 
windmill.  Mr.  Oldbuck  did  not  follow  these  collectors  in 
such  excess  of  expenditure;  but,  taking  a  pleasure  in  the 
personal  labour  of  forming  his  library,  saved  his  purse  at 
the  expense  of  his  time  and  toil.  He  was  no  encourager 
of  that  ingenious  race  of  peripatetic  middlemen,  who, 
trafficking  between  the  obscure  keeper  of  a  stall  and  the 
eager  amateur,  make  their  profit  at  once  of  the  ignorance 
of  the  former  and  the  dear-bought  skill  and  taste  of  the 
latter.  When  such  were  mentioned  in  his  hearing,  he 
seldom  failed  to  point  out  how  necessary  it  was  to  arrest 
the  object  of  your  curiosity  in  its  first  transit,  and  to 
tell  his  favourite  story  of  Snuffy  Davie  and  Caxton's 
'  Game  at  Chess.'  *  Davie  Wilson,'  he  said,  'commonly 
called  Snuffy  Davie,  from  his  inveterate  addiction  to 


31 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


black  rappee,  was  the  very  prince  of  scouts  for  searching 
blind  alleys,  cellars,  and  stalls  for  rare  volumes.  He  had 
the  scent  of  a  slow-hound,  sir,  and  the  snap  of  a  bull-dog. 
He  would  detect  you  an  old  black-letter  ballad  among 
the  leaves  of  a  law-paper,  and  find  an  editio  princeps 
under  the  mask  of  a  school  Corderius.  Snufify  Davie 
bought  the  "Game  of  Chess,  1474/'  the  first  book  ever 
printed  in  England,  from  a  stall  in  Holland  for  about 
two  groschen,  or  twopence  of  our  money.  He  sold  it 
to  Osborne  for  twenty  pounds  and  as  many  books  as 
came  to  twenty  pounds  more.  Osborne  resold  this  in- 
imitable windfall  to  Dr.  Askew  for  sixty  guineas.  At  Dr. 
Askew's  sale,'  continued  the  old  gentleman,  kindling  as 
he  spoke,  ^  this  inestimable  treasure  blazed  forth  in  its 
full  value,  and  was  purchased  by  Royalty  itself  for  one 
hundred  and  seventy  pounds!  Could  a  copy  now  occur, 
Lord  only  knows,'  he  ejaculated,  with  a  deep  sigh  and 
lif ted-up  hands  —  'Lord  only  knows  what  would  be  its 
ransom;  and  yet  it  was  originally  secured,  by  skill  and 
research,  for  the  easy  equivalent  of  twopence  sterling.^ 
Happy,  thrice  happy,  Snuffy  Davie!  and  blessed  were  the 
times  when  thy  industry  could  be  so  rewarded!  Even 
I,  sir,'  he  went  on,  though  far  inferior  in  industry  and 
discernment  and  presence  of  mind  to  that  great  man, 
can  show  you  a  few,  a  very  few  things,  which  I  have  col- 
lected, not  by  force  of  money,  as  any  wealthy  man  might, 
although,  as  my  friend  Lucian  says,  he  might  chance  to 
throw  away  his  coin  only  to  illustrate  his  ignorance,  but 
gained  in  a  manner  that  shows  I  know  something  of  the 
matter.  See  this  bundle  of  ballads,  not  one  of  them  later 

1  This  bibliomaniacal  anecdote  is  literally  true;  and  David  Wilson, 
the  author  need  not  tell  his  brethren  of  the  Roxburghe  and  Bannatyne 
Clubs,  was  a  real  personage. 

32 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


than  1700,  and  some  of  them  an  hundred  years  older.  I 
wheedled  an  old  woman  out  of  these,  who  loved  them 
better  than  her  psalm-book.  Tobacco,  sir,  snuff,  and  the 
Complete  Syren  ^'  were  the  equivalent!  For  that  muti- 
lated copy  of  the  ^^Complaynt  of  Scotland  "  I  sat  out  the 
drinking  of  two  dozen  bottles  of  strong  ale  with  the  late 
learned  proprietor,  who,  in  gratitude,  bequeathed  it  to 
me  by  his  last  will.  These  little  Elzevirs  are  the  memo- 
randa and  trophies  of  many  a  walk  by  night  and  morn- 
ing through  the  Cowgate,  the  Canongate,  the  Bow, 
Saint  Mary's  Wynd  —  wherever,  in  fine,  there  were  to 
be  found  brokers  and  trokers,  those  miscellaneous 
dealers  in  things  rare  and  curious.  How  often  have  I 
stood  haggling  on  a  halfpenny,  lest,  by  a  too  ready 
acquiescence  in  the  dealer's  first  price,  he  should  be  led 
to  suspect  the  value  I  set  upon  the  article!  How  have 
I  trembled  lest  some  passing  stranger  should  chop  in 
between  me  and  the  prize,  and  regarded  each  poor  stu- 
dent of  divinity  that  stopped  to  turn  over  the  books  at 
the  stall  as  a  rival  amateur  or  prowling  bookseller  in  dis- 
guise! And  then,  Mr.  Lovel,  the  sly  satisfaction  with 
which  one  pays  the  consideration  and  pockets  the  article, 
affecting  a  cold  indifference  while  the  hand  is  trembling 
with  pleasure!  Then  to  dazzle  the  eyes  of  our  wealthier 
and  emulous  rivals  by  showing  them  such  a  treasure  as 
this  (displaying  a  little  black  smoked  book  about  the  size 
of  a  primer),  to  enjoy  their  surprise  and  envy,  shroud- 
ing meanwhile  under  a  veil  of  mysterious  consciousness 
our  own  superior  knowledge  and  dexterity  —  these,  my 
young  friend,  these  are  the  white  moments  of  life,  that 
repay  the  toil  and  pains  and  sedulous  attention  which 
our  profession,  above  all  others,  so  peculiarly  demands! ' 


5  33 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


Lovel  was  not  a  little  amused  at  hearing  the  old  gen- 
tleman run  on  in  this  manner,  and,  however  incapable  of 
entering  into  the  full  merits  of  what  he  beheld,  he  ad- 
mired, as  much  as  could  have  been  expected,  the  various 
treasures  which  Oldbuck  exhibited.  Here  were  editions 
esteemed  as  being  the  first,  and  there  stood  those 
scarcely  less  regarded  as  being  the  last  and  best;  here 
was  a  book  valued  because  it  had  the  author's  final  im- 
provements, and  there  another  which  (strange  to  tell!) 
was  in  request  because  it  had  them  not.  One  was 
precious  because  it  was  a  folio,  another  because  it  was  a 
duodecimo;  some  because  they  were  tall,  some  because 
they  were  short;  the  merit  of  this  lay  in  the  title-page, 
of  that  in  the  arrangement  of  the  letters  in  the  word 
^  Finis.'  There  was,  it  seemed,  no  peculiar  distinction, 
however  trifling  or  minute,  which  might  not  give 
value  to  a  volume,  providing  the  indispensable  quahty 
of  scarcity  or  rare  occurrence  was  attached  to  it. 

Not  the  least  fascinating  was  the  original  broadside  — 
the  D)dng  Speech,  Bloody  Murder,  or  Wonderful  Won- 
der of  Wonders  —  in  its  primary  tattered  guise,  as  it 
was  hawked  through  the  streets  and  sold  for  the  cheap 
and  easy  price  of  one  penny,  though  now  worth  the 
weight  of  that  penny  in  gold.  On  these  the  Antiquary 
dilated  with  transport,  and  read  with  a  rapturous  voice 
the  elaborate  titles,  which  bore  the  same  proportion  to 
the  contents  that  the  painted  signs  without  a  showman's 
booth  do  to  the  animals  within.  Mr.  Oldbuck,  for  ex- 
ample, piqued  himself  especially  in  possessing  an  unique 
broadside,  entitled  and  called  *  Strange  and  Wonderful 
News  from  Chipping-Norton,  in  the  County  of  Oxon. 
Of  certain  dreadful  Apparitions  which  were  seen  in  the 


34 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


Air  on  the  26th  of  July  16 10,  at  Half  an  Hour  after 
Nine  o'Clock  at  Noon,  and  continued  till  Eleven,  in 
which  Time  was  seen  Appearances  of  several  flaming 
Swords,  strange  Motions  of  the  superior  Orbs,  with  the 
unusual  Sparkling  of  the  Stars,  with  their  dreadful  Con- 
tinuations. With  the  Account  of  the  Opening  of  the 
Heavens,  and  strange  Appearances  therein  disclosing 
themselves,  with  several  other  prodigious  Circumstances 
not  heard  of  in  any  Age,  to  the  great  Amazement  of  the 
Beholders,  as  it  was  communicated  in  a  Letter  to  one 
Mr.  CoUey,  living  in  West  Smithfield,  and  attested 
by  Thomas  Brown,  Elizabeth  Greenaway,  and  Anne 
Gutheridge,  who  were  Spectators  of  the  dreadful  Ap- 
paritions. And  if  any  one  would  be  further  satisfied  of 
the  Truth  of  this  Relation,  let  them  repair  to  Mr. 
Nightingale's,  at  the  Bear  Inn,  in  West  Smithfield,  and 
they  may  be  satisfied.'  ^ 

'You  laugh  at  this,'  said  the  proprietor  of  the  collec- 
tion, 'and  I  forgive  you.  I  do  acknowledge  that  the 
charms  on  which  we  doat  are  not  so  obvious  to  the  eyes 
of  youth  as  those  of  a  fair  lady;  but  you  will  grow  wiser, 
and  see  more  justly,  when  you  come  to  wear  spectacles. 
Yet  stay,  I  have  one  piece  of  antiquity  which  you,  per- 
haps, will  prize  more  highly.' 

So  saying,  Mr.  Oldbuck  unlocked  a  drawer  and  took 
out  a  bundle  of  keys,  then  pulled  aside  a  piece  of  the 
tapestry  which  concealed  the  door  of  a  small  closet,  int( 
which  he  descended  by  four  stone  steps,  and,  after  some 
tinkling  among  bottles  and  cans,  produced  two  long- 
stalked  wine-glasses  with  bell  mouths,  such  as  are  seen 

1  Of  this  thrice  and  four  times  rare  broadside  the  author  possesses 
an  exemplar. 


35 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


in  Teniers's  pieces,  and  a  small  bottle  of  what  he  called 
rich  racy  canary,  with  a  little  bit  of  diet-cake,  on  a  small 
silver  server  of  exquisite  old  workmanship.  will  say 
nothing  of  the  server,'  he  remarked,  ^though  it  is  said  to 
have  been  wrought  by  the  old  mad  Florentine  Benven- 
uto  Cellini.  But,  Mr.  Lovel,  our  ancestors  drunk  sack; 
you,  who  admire  the  drama,  know  where  that's  to  be 
found.  Here's  success  to  your  exertions  at  Fairport, 
sir!' 

'And  to  you,  sir,  and  an  ample  increase  to  your  treas- 
ure, with  no  more  trouble  on  your  part  than  is  just  neces- 
sary to  make  the  acquisitions  valuable.' 

After  a  hbation  so  suitable  to  the  amusement  in  which 
they  had  been  engaged,  Lovel  rose  to  take  his  leave,  and 
Mr.  Oldbuck  prepared  to  give  him  his  company  a  part  of 
the  way,  and  show  him  something  worthy  of  his  curios- 
ity on  his  return  to  Fairport. 


CHAPTER  IV 


The  pawky  auld  carle  cam  ower  the  lea, 
Wi'  mony  good-e'ens  and  good-morrows  to  me, 
Saying,  Kind  sir,  for  your  courtesy, 
Will  ye  lodge  a  silly  poor  man  ? 

The  Gaberlunzie  Man. 

Our  two  friends  moved  through  a  little  orchard,  where 
the  aged  apple-trees,  well  loaded  with  fruit,  showed,  as 
is  usual  in  the  neighbourhood  of  monastic  buildings, 
that  the  days  of  the  monks  had  not  always  been  spent  in 
indolence,  but  often  dedicated  to  horticulture  and  gar- 
dening. Mr.  Oldbuck  failed  not  to  make  Lovel  remark 
that  the  planters  of  those  days  were  possessed  of  the 
modern  secret  of  preventing  the  roots  of  the  fruit-trees 
from  penetrating  the  till,  and  compelling  them  to  spread 
in  a  lateral  direction,  by  placing  paving-stones  beneath 
the  trees  when  first  planted,  so  as  to  interpose  between 
their  fibres  and  the  subsoil.  ^This  old  fellow,'  he  said, 
Vhich  was  blown  down  last  summer,  and  still,  though 
half  reclined  on  the  ground,  is  covered  with  fruit,  has 
been,  as  you  may  see,  accommodated  with  such  a  barrier 
between  his  roots  and  the  unkindly  till.  That  other  tree 
has  a  story:  the  fruit  is  called  the  Abbot's  Apple.  The 
lady  of  a  neighbouring  baron  was  so  fond  of  it  that  she 
would  often  pay  a  visit  to  Monkbarns  to  have  the  pleas- 
ure of  gathering  it  from  the  tree.  The  husband,  a  jealous 
man  belike,  suspected  that  a  taste  so  nearly  resembling 
that  of  Mother  Eve  prognosticated  a  similar  fall.  As  the 
honour  of  a  noble  family  is  concerned,  I  will  say  no  more 
on  the  subject,  only  that  the  lands  of  Lochard  and  Crin- 

37 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


glecut  still  pay  a  fine  of  six  bolls  of  barley  annually  to 
atone  the  guilt  of  their  audacious  owner,  who  intruded 
himself  and  his  worldly  suspicions  upon  the  seclusion  of 
the  abbot  and  his  penitent.  Admire  the  little  belfry  ris- 
ing above  the  ivy-mantled  porch;  there  was  here  a  hos- 
pitium,  hospitale,  or  hospitamentum  (for  it  is  written  all 
these  various  ways  in  the  old  writings  and  evidents),  in 
which  the  monks  received  pilgrims.  I  know  our  minister 
has  said,  in  the Statistical  Account "  that  the  hospitium 
was  situated  either  on  the  lands  of  Haltweary  or  upon 
those  of  Half-starvet;  but  he  is  incorrect,  Mr.  Lovel: 
that  is  the  gate  called  still  the  Palmer's  Port,  and  my 
gardener  found  many  hewn  stones  when  he  was  trench- 
ing the  ground  for  winter  celery,  several  of  which  I  have 
sent  as  specimens  to  my  learned  friends,  and  to  the 
various  antiquarian  societies  of  which  I  am  an  unworthy 
member.  But  I  will  say  no  more  at  present;  I  reserve 
something  for  another  visit,  and  we  have  an  object  of 
real  curiosity  before  us.' 

While  he  was  thus  speaking  he  led  the  way  briskly 
through  one  or  two  rich  pasture  meadows  to  an  open 
heath  or  common,  and  so  to  the  top  of  a  gentle  eminence. 
^Here,'  he  said,  'Mr.  Lovel,  is  a  truly  remarkable  spot.' 

'It  commands  a  fine  view,'  said  his  companion,  look- 
ing around  him. 

'True;  but  it  is  not  for  the  prospect  I  brought  you 
hither.  Do  you  see  nothing  else  remarkable?  nothing  on 
the  surface  of  the  ground?' 

'Why,  yes;  I  do  see  something  like  a  ditch,  indistinctly 
marked.' 

'Indistinctly!  pardon  me,  sir,  but  the  indistinctness 
must  be  in  your  powers  of  vision:  nothing  can  be  more 

38 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

plainly  traced  —  a  proper  agger  or  vallum,  with  its  cor- 
responding ditch  or  fossa.  Indistinctly!  why,  Heaven 
help  you,  the  lassie,  my  niece,  as  light-headed  a  goose  as 
womankind  affords,  saw  the  traces  of  the  ditch  at  once. 
Indistinct!  why,  the  great  station  at  Ardoch,  or  that  at 
Burnswark  in  Annandale,  may  be  clearer,  doubtless, 
because  they  are  stative  forts,  whereas  this  was  only  an 
occasional  encampment.  Indistinct!  why,  you  must 
suppose  that  fools,  boors,  and  idiots  have  ploughed  up 
the  land,  and,  Hke  beasts  and  ignorant  savages,  have 
thereby  obliterated  two  sides  of  the  square,  and  greatly  / 
injured  the  third;  but  you  see  yourself  the  fourth  side  is 
quite  entire!' 

Lovel  endeavoured  to  apologise,  and  to  explain  away 
his  ill-timed  phrase,  and  pleaded  his  inexperience.  But 
he  was  not  at  once  quite  successful.  His  first  expression 
had  come  too  frankly  and  naturally  not  to  alarm  the 
Antiquary,  and  he  could  not  easily  get  over  the  shock 
it  had  given  him. 

^My  dear  sir,'  continued  the  senior,  'your  eyes  are  not 
inexperienced;  you  know  a  ditch  from  level  ground,  I 
presume,  when  you  see  them?  Indistinct!  why,  the  very 
common  people,  the  very  least  boy  that  can  herd  a  cow, 
calls  it  the  Kaim  of  Kinprunes;  and  if  that  does  not 
imply  an  ancient  camp,  I  am  ignorant  what  does.' 

Lovel  having  again  acquiesced,  and  at  length  lulled  to  J 
sleep  the  irritated  and  suspicious  vanity  of  the  Anti- 
quary, he  proceeded  in  his  task  of  cicerone.  'You  must 
know,'  he  said,  'our  Scottish  antiquaries  have  been 
greatly  divided  about  the  local  situation  of  the  final 
conflict  between  Agricola  and  the  Caledonians:  some 
contend  for  Ardoch  in  Strathallan,  some  for  Inner- 

39 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


peffry,  some  for  the  Raedykes  in  the  Mearns,  and  some 
are  for  carrying  the  scene  of  action  as  far  north  as  Blair 
in  Athole.  Now,  after  all  this  discussion/  continued  the 
old  gentleman,  with  one  of  his  slyest  and  most  compla- 
cent looks,  %hat  would  you  think,  Mr.  Lovel  —  I  say, 
what  would  you  think,  if  the  memorable  scene  of  con- 
flict should  happen  to  be  on  the  very  spot  called  the 
Kaim  of  Kinprunes,  the  property  of  the  obscure  and 
\  humble  individual  who  now  speaks  to  you?'  Then, 
having  paused  a  little  to  suffer  his  guest  to  digest  a  com- 
munication so  important,  he  resumed  his  disquisition  in 
a  higher  tone.  *  Yes,  my  good  friend,  I  am  indeed  greatly 
deceived  if  this  place  does  not  correspond  with  all  the 
marks  of  that  celebrated  place  of  action.  It  was  near  to 
the  Grampian  Mountains;  lo!  yonder  they  are,  mixing 
and  contending  with  the  sky  on  the  skirts  of  the  horizon! 
It  was  in  conspectu  classis  —  in  sight  of  the  Roman  fleet; 
and  would  any  admiral,  Roman  or  British,  wish  a  fairer 
bay  to  ride  in  than  that  on  your  right  hand?  It  is  aston- 
ishing how  blind  we  professed  antiquaries  sometimes 
are;  Sir  Robert  Sibbald,  Saunders  Gordon,  General  Roy, 
Doctor  Stukeley,  why,  it  escaped  all  of  them.  I  was 
unwilling  to  say  a  word  about  it  till  I  had  secured  the 
ground,  for  it  belonged  to  auld  Johnnie  Howie,  a  bonnet- 
laird  hard  by,  and  many  a  communing  we  had  before  he 
and  I  could  agree.  At  length  —  I  am  almost  ashamed  to 
say  it  —  but  I  even  brought  my  mind  to  give  acre  for 
acre  of  my  good  corn-land  for  this  barren  spot.  But  then 
it  was  a  national  concern;  and  when  the  scene  of  so  cele- 
brated an  event  became  my  own  I  was  overpaid.  Whose 
patriotism  would  not  grow  warmer,  as  old  Johnson  says, 
on  the  plains  of  Marathon?  I  began  to  trench  the 

40 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


ground,  to  see  what  might  be  discovered;  and  the  third 
day,  sir,  we  found  a  stone,  which  I  have  transported  to 
Monkbarns,  in  order  to  have  the  sculpture  taken  o& 
with  plaster  of  Paris;  it  bears  a  sacrificing  vessel,  and  the 
letters  A.D.L.L.,  which  may  stand,  without  much  \do- 
lence,  for  Agricola  Dicavit  Libens  Lubens,^ 

Certainly,  sir;  for  the  Dutch  antiquaries  claim 
Caligula  as  the  founder  of  a  lighthouse  on  the  sole  au- 
thority of  the  letters  C.C.P.F.,  which  they  interpret 
Caius  Caligula  Pharum  Fecit, ^ 

^True,  and  it  has  ever  been  recorded  as  a  sound  exposi- 
tion. I  see  we  shall  make  something  of  you  even  before 
you  wear  spectacles,  notwithstanding  you  thought  the 
traces  of  this  beautiful  camp  indistinct  when  you  first 
observed  them.' 

*In  time,  sir,  and  by  good  instruction  — ' 

* —  You  will  become  more  apt?  I  doubt  it  not.  You 
shall  peruse,  upon  your  next  visit  to  Monkbarns,  my 
trivial  Essay  upon  Castrametation,  with  some  Par- 
ticular Remarks  upon  the  Vestiges  of  Ancient  Fortifica- 
tions lately  discovered  by  the  Author  at  the  Kaim  of 
Kinprunes.''  I  think  I  have  pointed  out  the  infallible 
touchstone  of  supposed  antiquity.  I  premise  a  few  gen- 
eral rules  on  that  point,  on  the  nature,  namely,  of  the 
evidence  to  be  received  in  such  cases.  Meanwhile  be 
pleased  to  observe,  for  example,  that  I  could  press  into 
my  service  Claudian's  famous  Une, 

lUe  Caledoniis  posuit  qui  castra  pruinis. 

For  pruinis,  though  interpreted  to  mean  "hoar  frosts,"" 
to  which  I  own  we  are  somewhat  subject  in  this  north- 
eastern sea-coast,  may  also  signify  a  locality,  namely, 

41 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Prunes;  the  castra  Pruinis  posita  would  therefore  be  the 
Kaim  of  Kinprunes.  But  I  waive  this,  for  I  am  sensible 
it  might  be  laid  hold  of  by  cavillers  as  carrying  down  my 
castra  to  the  time  of  Theodosius,  sent  by  Valentinian 
into  Britain  as  late  as  the  year  367  or  thereabout.  No, 
my  good  friend,  I  appeal  to  people's  eye-sight  —  is  not 
here  the  decuman  gate?  and  there,  but  for  the  ravage 
of  the  horrid  plough,  as  a  learned  friend  calls  it,  would  be 
the  praetorian  gate.  On  the  left  hand  you  may  see  some 
slight  vestiges  of  the  porta  sinistra,  and  on  the  right  one 
side  of  the  porta  dextra  well-nigh  entire.  Here,  then, 
let  us  take  our  stand,  on  this  tumulus,  exhibiting  the 
foundation  of  ruined  buildings  —  the  central  point,  the 
prcEtorium,  doubtless,  of  the  camp.  From  this  place,  now 
scarce  to  be  distinguished  but  by  its  slight  elevation  and 
its  greener  turf  from  the  rest  of  the  fortification,  we  may 
suppose  Agricola  to  have  looked  forth  on  the  immense 
army  of  Caledonians,  occupying  the  declivities  of  yon 
opposite  hill,  the  infantry  rising  rank  over  rank  as  the 
form  of  ground  displayed  their  array  to  its  utmost  advan- 
tage, the  cavalry  and  covinarii,  by  which  I  understand 
the  charioteers — another  guise  of  folks  from  your  Bond 
Street  four-in-hand  men,  I  trow  —  scouring  the  more 
level  space  below  — 

See,  then,  Lovel,  see  — 
See  that  huge  battle  moving  from  the  mountains, 
Their  gilt  coats  shine  like  dragon  scales,  their  march 
V  Like  a  rough  tumbling  storm.  See  them,  and  view  them, 

And  then  see  Rome  no  more! 

Yes,  my  dear  friend,  from  this  stance  it  is  probable  — 
nay,  it  is  nearly  certain  —  that  Julius  Agricola  beheld 
what  our  Beaumont  has  so  admirably  described!  From 
this  very  prcetorium  — * 

42 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

A  voice  from  behind  interrupted  his  ecstatic  descrip- 
tion—  ^Praetorian  here,  praetorian  there,  I  mind  the 
bigging  o't.' 

Both  at  once  turned  round,  Lovel  with  surprise  and 
Oldbuck  with  mingled  surprise  and  indignation,  at  so 
uncivil  an  interruption.  An  auditor  had  stolen  upon 
them,  unseen  and  unheard,  amid  the  energy  of  the 
Antiquary's  enthusiastic  declamation  and  the  attentive 
civility  of  Lovel.  He  had  the  exterior  appearance  of  a 
mendicant.  A  slouched  hat  of  huge  dimensions;  a  long 
white  beard,  which  mingled  with  his  grizzled  hair;  an 
aged,  but  strongly  marked  and  expressive  countenance, 
hardened  by  climate  and  exposure  to  a  right  brick-dust 
complexion;  a  long  blue  gown,  with  a  pewter  badge  on 
the  right  arm;  two  or  three  wallets  or  bags  slung  across 
his  shoulder  for  holding  the  different  kinds  of  meal 
when  he  received  his  charity  in  kind  from  those  who 
were  but  a  degree  richer  than  himself  —  all  these 
marked  at  once  a  beggar  by  profession  and  one  of  that 
privileged  class  which  are  called  in  Scotland  the  King's 
Bedesmen,  or,  vulgarly,  Blue-Gowns. 

'What  is  that  you  say,  Edie?'  said  Oldbuck,  hoping, 
perhaps,  that  his  ears  had  betrayed  their  duty;  'what 
were  you  speaking  about? ' 

'About  this  bit  bourock,  your  honour,'  answered  the 
undaunted  Edie;  'I  mind  the  bigging  o't.' 

'The  devil  you  do!  Why,  you  old  fool,  it  was  here 
before  you  were  born,  and  will  be  after  you  are  hanged, 
man!' 

'Hanged  or  drowned,  here  or  awa,  dead  or  alive,  I 
mind  the  bigging  o't.' 

'You  —  you  —  you,'  said  the  Antiquary,  stammering 

43 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


between  confusion  and  anger  —  *you  strolling  old  vaga- 
bond, what  the  devil  do  you  know  about  it? ' 

^Ou,  I  ken  this  about  it,  Monkbarns  —  and  what 
profit  have  I  for  telling  ye  a  lie?  —  I  just  ken  this  about 
it,  that  about  twenty  years  syne  I  and  a  wheen  hallen- 
shakers  Uke  mysell,  and  the  mason-lads  that  built  the 
lang  dyke  that  gaes  down  the  loaning,  and  twa  or  three 
herds  maybe,  just  set  to  wark  and  built  this  bit  thing 
here  that  ye  ca'  the  —  the  —  prsetorian,  and  a'  just  for  a 
bield  at  auld  Aiken  Drum's  bridal,  and  a  bit  blythe  gae- 
down  we  had  in 't  some  sair  rainy  weather.  Mair  by 
token,  Monkbarns,  if  ye  howk  up  the  bourock,  as  ye 
seem  to  have  begun,  ye  '11  find,  if  ye  hae  not  fund  it  al- 
ready, a  stane  that  ane  o'  the  mason-callants  cut  a  ladle 
on  to  have  a  bourd  at  the  bridegroom,  and  he  put  four 
letters  on't,  that's  A.D.LX. — Aiken  Drum's  Lang 
Ladle;  for  Aiken  was  ane  o'  the  kale-suppers  o'  Fife.' 

'This,'  thought  Lovel  to  himself,  'is  a  famous  counter- 
part to  the  story  of  ^'Keip  on  this  syde."'  He  then  ven- 
tured to  steal  a  glance  at  our  Antiquary,  but  quickly 
withdrew  it  in  sheer  compassion.  For,  gentle  reader,  if 
thou  hast  ever  beheld  the  visage  of  a  damsel  of  sixteen 
whose  romance  of  true  love  has  been  blown  up  by  an 
untimely  discovery,  or  of  a  child  of  ten  years  whose 
castle  of  cards  has  been  blown  down  by  a  malicious  com- 
panion, I  can  safely  aver  to  you  that  Jonathan  Oldbuck 
of  Monkbarns  looked  neither  more  wise  nor  less  dis- 
concerted. 

'There  is  some  mistake  about  this,'  he  said,  abruptly 
turning  away  from  the  mendicant. 

'Deil  a  bit  on  my  side  o'  the  wa','  answered  the  sturdy 
beggar;  'I  never  deal  in  mistakes,  they  aye  bring  mis- 

44 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


chances.  Now,  Monkbarns,  that  young  gentleman 
that's  wi'  your  honour  thinks  little  of  a  carle  Hke  me; 
and  yet  I'll  wager  I'll  tell  him  whar  he  was  yestreen  at 
the  gloamin,  only  he  maybe  wadna  like  to  hae 't  spoken 
o'  in  company.' 

Lovel's  soul  rushed  to  his  cheeks  with  the  vivid  blush 
of  two-and-twenty.  v 

'Never  mind  the  old  rogue/  said  Mr.  Oldbuck. 
*  Don't  suppose  I  think  the  worse  of  you  for  your  pro- 
fession; they  are  only  prejudiced  fools  and  coxcombs 
that  do  so.  You  remember  what  old  TuUy  says  in  his 
oration  "Pro  Archia  poeta"  concerning  one  of  your  con- 
fraternity—  Quis  nostrum  tarn  animo  agresti  ac  duro 
fuit  —  ut  —  ut  —  I  forget  the  Latin;  the  meaning  is, 
which  of  us  was  so  rude  and  barbarous  as  to  remain  un- 
moved at  the  death  of  the  great  Roscius,  whose  ad- 
vanced age  was  so  far  from  preparing  us  for  his  death 
that  we  rather  hoped  one  so  graceful,  so  excellent  in  his 
art,  ought  to  be  exempted  from  the  common  lot  of  mor- 
tality? So  the  Prince  of  Orators  spoke  of  the  stage  and 
its  professors.^ 

The  words  of  the  old  man  fell  upon  Lovel's  ears,  but 
without  conveying  any  precise  idea  to  his  mind,  which 
was  then  occupied  in  thinking  by  what  means  the  old  j 
beggar,  who  still  continued  to  regard  him  with  a  coun-  J 
tenance  provokingly  sly  and  intelligent,  had  contrived 
to  thrust  himself  into  any  knowledge  of  his  affairs.  He 
put  his  hand  in  his  pocket  as  the  readiest  mode  of  inti- 
mating his  desire  of  secrecy  and  securing  the  concur- 
rence of  the  person  whom  he  addressed;  and  while  he 
bestowed  him  an  alms,  the  amount  of  which  rather  bore 
proportion  to  his  fears  than  to  his  charity,  looked  at 

45 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS. 


him  with  a  marked  expression,  which  the  mendicant,  a 
physiognomist  by  profession,  seemed  perfectly  to  under- 
stand. —  ^  Never  mind  me,  sir,  I  am  no  tale-pyet;  but 
there  are  mair  een  in  the  warld  than  mine,'  answered  he 
as  he  pocketed  Lovel's  bounty,  but  in  a  tone  to  be  heard 
by  him  alone,  and  with  an  expression  which  amply 
filled  up  what  was  left  unspoken.  Then  turning  to  Old- 
buck  —  *  I  am  awa  to  the  manse,  your  honour.  Has  your 
honour  ony  word  there,  or  to  Sir  Arthur,  for  I'll  come  in 
by  Knockwinnock  Castle  again  e'en?' 

Oldbuck  started  as  from  a  dream;  and  in  a  hurried 
tone,  where  vexation  strove  with  a  wish  to  conceal  it, 
paying  at  the  same  time  a  tribute  to  Edie's  smooth, 
greasy,  unHned  hat,  he  said,  'Go  down,  go  down  to 
Monkbarns;  let  them  give  you  some  dinner.  Or  stay;  if 
you  do  go  to  the  manse,  or  to  Knockwinnock,  ye  need 
say  nothing  about  that  foolish  story  of  yours.' 

'Who,  I?'  said  the  mendicant.  'Lord  bless  your  hon- 
our, naebody  sail  ken  a  word  about  it  frae  me,  mair  than 
if  the  bit  bourock  had  been  there  since  Noah's  flood. 
But,  Lord,  they  tell  me  your  honour  has  gien  Johnnie 
Howie  acre  for  acre  of  the  laigh  crofts  for  this  heathery 
knowe !  Now,  if  he  has  really  imposed  the  bourock  on  ye 
for  an  ancient  wark,  it 's  my  real  opinion  the  bargain  will 
never  hand  gude,  if  you  would  just  bring  down  your 
heart  to  try  it  at  the  law,  and  say  that  he  beguiled  ye.' 

'Provoking  scoundrel,'  muttered  the  indignant  Anti- 
quary between  his  teeth;  'I'll  have  the  hangman's  lash 
and  his  back  acquainted  for  this!'  And  then  in  a  louder 
tone,  'Never  mind,  Edie;  it  is  all  a  mistake.' 

'Troth,  I  am  thinking  sae,'  continued  his  tormentor, 
who  seemed  to  have  pleasure  in  rubbing  the  galled 

46 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


wound  —  Hroth,  I  aye  thought  sae;  and  it's  no  sae  lang 
since  I  said  to  Luckie  Gemmels,  Never  think  you, 
luckie/'  said  I,  ^Hhat  his  honour,  Monkbarns,  would  hae 
done  sic  a  daft-like  thing  as  to  gie  grund  weel  worth 
fifty  shillings  an  acre  for  a  mailing  that  would  be  dear  o' 
a  pund  Scots.  Na,  na,"  quo'  I,  depend  upon't  the 
Laird 's  been  imposed  upon  wi'  that  wily  do-little  deevil, 
Johnnie  Howie."  ^^But  Lord  haud  a  care  o'  us,  sirs,  how 
can  that  be,"  quo'  she  again,  ^^when  the  Laird's  sae 
book-learned  there 's  no  the  like  o'  him  in  the  country- 
side, and  Johnnie  Howie  has  hardly  sense  eneugh  to  ca' 
the  cows  out  o'  his  kale-yard?"  ^^Aweel,  aweel,"  quo'  I, 
"but  ye '11  hear  he's  circumvented  him  with  some  of  his 
auld-warld  stories," —  for  ye  ken.  Laird,  yon  other  time 
about  the  bodle  that  ye  thought  was  an  auld  coin  — ' 

'Go  to  the  devil!'  said  Oldbuck;  and  then  in  a  more 
mild  tone,  as  one  that  was  conscious  his  reputation  lay 
at  the  mercy  of  his  antagonist,  he  added  —  *  Away  with 
you  down  to  Monkbarns,  and  when  I  come  back  I'll 
send  ye  a  bottle  of  ale  to  the  kitchen.' 

'  Heaven  reward  your  honour ! '  This  was  uttered  with 
the  true  mendicant  whine,  as,  setting  his  pike-staff  be- 
fore him,  he  began  to  move  in  the  direction  of  Monk- 
barns. 'But  did  your  honour,'  turning  round,  'ever  get 
back  the  siller  ye  gae  to  the  travelling  packman  for  the 
bodle?' 

'Curse  thee,  go  about  thy  business!' 

'Aweel,  aweel,  sir,  God  bless  your  honour!  I  hope 
ye '11  ding  Johnnie  Howie  yet,  and  that  I'll  live  to  see 
it.'  And  so  saying,  the  old  beggar  moved  off,  relieving 
Mr.  Oldbuck  of  recollections  which  were  anything  rather 
than  agreeable. 

47 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


^Who  is  this  familiar  old  gentleman?'  said  Lovel, 
when  the  mendicant  was  out  of  hearing. 

*0,  one  of  the  plagues  of  the  country.  I  have  been 
always  against  poor's-rates  and  a  workhouse;  I  think 
I  'U  vote  for  them  now,  to  have  that  scoundrel  shut  up. 
O,  your  old-remembered  guest  of  a  beggar  becomes  as 
well  acquainted  with  you  as  he  is  with  his  dish,  as  inti- 
mate as  one  of  the  beasts  familiar  to  man  which  signify 
love,  and  with  which  his  own  trade  is  especially  conver- 
sant. Who  is  he?  why,  he  has  gone  the  vole  —  has  been 
soldier,  ballad-singer,  travelling  tinker,  and  is  now  a 
beggar.  He  is  spoiled  by  our  foolish  gentry,  who  laugh 
at  his  jokes  and  rehearse  Edie  Ochiltree's  good  things  as 
regularly  as  Joe  Miller's.' 

^Why,  he  uses  freedom  apparently,  which  is  the  soul 
of  wit,'  answered  Lovel. 

'0  ay,  freedom  enough,'  said  the  Antiquary;  ^he  gen- 
erally invents  some  damned  improbable  lie  or  another  to 
provoke  you,  like  that  nonsense  he  talked  just  now;  not 
that  I  '11  publish  my  tract  till  I  have  examined  the  thing 
to  the  bottom.' 

'In  England,'  said  Lovel,  'such  a  mendicant  would 
get  a  speedy  check.' 

'Yes,  your  churchwardens  and  dog- whips  would  make 
slender  allowance  for  his  vein  of  humour!  But  here, 
curse  him,  he  is  a  sort  of  privileged  nuisance  —  one  of 
the  last  specimens  of  the  old-fashioned  Scottish  mendi- 
cant, who  kept  his  rounds  within  a  particular  space,  and 
was  the  news-carrier,  the  minstrel,  and  sometimes  the 
historian  of  the  district.  That  rascal,  now,  knows  more 
old  ballads  and  traditions  than  any  other  man  in  this 
and  the  four  next  parishes.  And  after  all,'  continued  he, 

48 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

softening  as  he  went  on  describing  Edie's  good  gifts,  ^the 
dog  has  some  good-humour.  He  has  borne  his  hard  fate 
with  unbroken  spirits,  and  it's  cruel  to  deny  him  the 
comfort  of  a  laugh  at  his  betters.  The  pleasure  of  having 
quizzed  me,  as  you  gay  folk  would  call  it,  will  be  meat 
and  drink  to  him  for  a  day  or  two.  But  I  must  go  back 
and  look  after  him,  or  he  will  spread  his  d — d  nonsensical 
story  over  half  the  country.' 

So  saying,  our  heroes  parted,  Mr.  Oldbuck  to  return 
to  his  hospitium  at  Monkbarns,  and  Lovel  to  pursue 
his  way  to  Fairport^  where  he  arrived  without  farther 
adventure. 


0 


CHAPTER  V 


Launcdot  Gobbo.  Mark  me  now:  now  will  I  raise  the  waters. 

Merchant  of  Venice, 

The  theatre  at  Fairport  had  opened,  but  no  Mr.  Lovel 
appeared  on  the  boards,  nor  was  there  anything  in  the 
habits  or  deportment  of  the  young  gentleman  so  named 
which  authorised  Mr.  Oldbuck's  conjecture  that  his 
fellow-traveller  was  a  candidate  for  the  public  favour. 
Regular  were  the  Antiquary's  inquiries  at  an  old-fash- 
ioned barber  who  dressed  the  only  three  wigs  in  the 
parish,  which,  in  defiance  of  taxes  and  times,  were  still 
subjected  to  the  operation  of  powdering  and  frizzling, 
and  who  for  that  purpose  divided  his  time  among  the 
three  employers  whom  fashion  had  yet  left  him  —  regu- 
lar, I  say,  were  Mr.  Oldbuck's  inquiries  at  this  personage 
concerning  the  news  of  the  Httle  theatre  at  Fairport, 
expecting  every  day  to  hear  of  Mr.  Lovel's  appearance, 
on  which  occasion  the  old  gentleman  had  determined  to 
put  himself  to  charges  in  honour  of  his  young  friend,  and 
not  only  to  go  to  the  play  himself,  but  to  carry  his  wo- 
mankind along  with  him.  But  old  Jacob  Caxon  con- 
veyed no  information  which  warranted  his  taking  so 
decisive  a  step  as  that  of  securing  a  box. 

He  brought  information,  on  the  contrary,  that  there 
was  a  young  man  residing  at  Fairport  of  whom  the  town 
(by  which  he  meant  all  the  gossips,  who,  having  no 
business  of  their  own,  fiJl  up  their  leisure  moments  by 
attending  to  that  of  other  people)  could  make  nothing. 
He  sought  no  society,  but  rather  avoided  that  which  the 

SO 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


apparent  gentleness  of  his  manners,  and  some  degree  of 
curiosity,  induced  many  to  offer  him.  Nothing  could  be 
more  regular,  or  less  resembHng  an  adventurer,  than  his 
mode  of  living,  which  was  simple,  but  so  completely  well  9 
arranged  that  all  who  had  any  transactions  with  him 
were  loud  in  their  approbation. 

'These  are  not  the  virtues  of  a  stage-struck  hero,* 
thought  Oldbuck  to  himself;  and,  however  habitually 
pertinacious  in  his  opinions,  he  must  have  been  com- 
pelled to  abandon  that  which  he  had  formed  in  the  pre- 
sent instance  but  for  a  part  of  Caxon's  communication. 
'The  young  gentleman,'  he  said,  'was  sometimes  heard 
speaking  to  himsell,  and  rampauging  about  in  his  room, 
just  as  if  he  was  ane  o'  the  player  folk.' 

Nothing,  however,  excepting  this  single  circumstance, 
occurred  to  confirm  Mr.  Oldbuck's  supposition,  and  it 
remained  a  high  and  doubtful  question  what  a  well- 
informed  young  man,  without  friends,  connexions,  or 
employment  of  any  kind,  could  have  to  do  as  a  resident 
at  Fairport.  Neither  port  wine  nor  whist  had  apparently 
any  charms  for  him.  He  declined  dining  with  the  mess 
of  the  volunteer  cohort,  which  had  been  lately  embodied, 
and  shunned  joining  the  convivialities  of  either  of  the 
two  parties  which  then  divided  Fairport,  as  they  did 
more  important  places.  He  was  too  little  of  an  aristocrat 
to  join  the  club  of  Royal  True  Blues,  and  too  little  of  a 
democrat  to  fraternise  with  an  affiliated  society  of  the 
soi-disant  Friends  of  the  People,  which  the  borough  had 
also  the  happiness  of  possessing.  A  coffee-room  was  his 
detestation;  and,  I  grieve  to  say  it,  he  had  as  few  sym-  " 
pathies  with  the  tea-table.  In  short,  since  the  name  was 
fashionable  in  novel-writing,  and  that  is  a  great  while 

SI 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


agone,  there  was  never  a  Master  Lovel  of  whom  so  little 
positive  was  known,  and  who  was  so  universally  de- 
scribed by  negatives. 

One  negative,  however,  was  important:  nobody  knew 
any  harm  of  Lovel.  Indeed,  had  such  existed,  it  would 
have  been  speedily  made  public;  for  the  natural  desire  of 
speaking  evil  of  our  neighbour  could  in  his  case  have 
been  checked  by  no  feelings  of  sympathy  for  a  being  so 
unsocial.  On  one  account  alone  he  fell  somewhat  under 
suspicion.  As  he  made  free  use  of  his  pencil  in  his  soli- 
tary walks,  and  had  drawn  several  views  of  the  harbour, 
in  which  the  signal-tower,  and  even  the  four-gun  bat- 
tery, were  introduced,  some  zealous  friends  of  the  public 
sent  abroad  a  whisper  that  this  mysterious  stranger 
must  certainly  be  a  French  spy.  The  sheriff  paid  his 
respects  to  Mr.  Lovel  accordingly,  but  in  the  interview 
which  followed  it  would  seem  that  he  had  entirely  re- 
moved that  magistrate's  suspicions,  since  he  not  only 
suffered  him  to  remain  undisturbed  in  his  retirement, 
but,  it  was  credibly  reported,  sent  him  two  invitations  to 
dinner  parties,  both  which  were  civilly  declined.  But 
what  the  nature  of  the  explanation  was,  the  magistrate 
kept  a  profound  secret,  not  only  from  the  pubhc  at 
large,  but  from  his  substitute,  his  clerk,  his  wife,  and 
his  two  daughters,  who  formed  his  privy  council  on  all 
questions  of  official  duty. 

All  these  particulars  being  faithfully  reported  by  Mr. 
Caxon  to  his  patron  at  Monkbarns,  tended  much  to 
raise  Lovel  in  the  opinion  of  his  former  fellow-traveller. 
'A  decent  sensible  lad,'  said  he  to  himself,  'who  scorns  to 
enter  into  the  fooleries  and  nonsense  of  these  idiot  people 
at  Fairport.  I  must  do  something  for  him  —  I  must  give 

52 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

him  a  dinner;  and  I  will  write  Sir  Arthur  to  come  to 
Monkbarns  to  meet  him.  I  must  consult  my  woman- 
kind/ 

Accordingly,  such  consultation  having  been  previ- 
ously held,  a  special  messenger,  being  no  other  than 
Caxon  himself,  was  ordered  to  prepare  for  a  walk  to 
Knockwinnock  Castle  with  a  letter,  *For  the  honoured 
Sir  Arthur  Wardour  of  Knockwinnock,  Bart.'  The  con- 
tents ran  thus  — 

Dear  Sir  Arthur, 

On  Tuesday  the  17th  curt.  sHlo  novo,  I  hold  a  coeno- 
bitical  symposion  at  Monkbarns,  and  pray  you  to  assist 
thereat,  at  four  o'clock  precisely.  If  my  fair  enemy  Miss 
Isabel  can  and  will  honour  us  by  accompanying  you,  my 
womankind  will  be  but  too  proud  to  have  the  aid  of  such 
an  auxiliary  in  the  cause  of  resistance  to  lawful  rule  and 
right  supremacy.  If  not,  I  will  send  the  womankind  to 
the  manse  for  the  day.  I  have  a  young  acquaintance  to 
make  known  to  you,  who  is  touched  with  some  strain  of 
a  better  spirit  than  belongs  to  these  giddy-paced  times 
—  reveres  his  elders,  and  has  a  pretty  notion  of  the 
classics  —  and,  as  such  a  youth  must  have  a  natural 
contempt  for  the  people  about  Fairport,  I  wish  to  show 
him  some  rational  as  well  as  worshipful  society.  —  I  am, 
dear  Sir  Arthur,  etc.  etc.  etc. 

*Fly  with  this  letter,  Caxon,'  said  the  senior,  holding 
out  his  missive,  signatum  atque  sigUlatum  —  'fly  to 
Knockwinnock  and  bring  me  back  an  answer.  Go  as 
fast  as  if  the  town-council  were  met,  and  waiting  for  the 
provost,  and  the  provost  was  waiting  for  his  new- 
powdered  wig.' 

S3 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


*Ah!  sir/ answered  the  messenger,  with  a  deep  sigh, 
*  thae  days  hae  lang  gane  by.  Deil  a  wig  has  a  provost  of 
Fairport  worn  sin'  auld  Provost  Jervie's  time;  and  he 
had  a  quean  of  a  servant-lass  that  dressed  it  hersell,  wi' 
the  doup  o'  a  candle  and  a  drudging-box.  But  I  hae  seen 
the  day,  Monkbarns,  when  the  town-council  of  Fairport 
wad  hae  as  soon  wanted  their  town-clerk,  or  their  gill  of 
brandy  ower-head  after  the  baddies,  as  they  wad  hae 
wanted  ilk  ane  a  weel-favoured,  sonsy,  decent  periwig  on 
his  pow.  Hegh,  sirs!  nae  wonder  the  commons  will  be 
discontent  and  rise  against  the  law,  when  they  see  magis- 
trates and  bailies  and  deacons,  and  the  provost  himsell, 
wi'  heads  as  bald  and  as  bare  as  ane  o'  my  blocks! ' 

^  And  as  well  furnished  within,  Caxon.  But  away  with 
you;  you  have  an  excellent  view  of  public  affairs,  and,  I 
daresay,  have  touched  the  cause  of  our  popular  discon- 
tent as  closely  as  the  provost  could  have  done  himself. 
But  away  with  you,  Caxon.' 

And  off  went  Caxon  upon  his  walk  of  three  miles  — 

He  hobbled,  but  his  heart  was  good; 
Could  he  go  faster  than  he  could? 

While  he  is  engaged  in  his  journey  and  return,  it  may 
not  be  impertinent  to  inform  the  reader  to  whose  man- 
sion he  was  bearing  his  embassy. 

We  have  said  that  Mr.  Oldbuck  kept  little  company 
with  the  surrounding  gentlemen,  excepting  with  one 
person  only.  This  was  Sir  Arthur  Wardour,  a  baronet 
of  ancient  descent,  and  of  a  large  but  embarrassed  for- 
tune. His  father,  Sir  Anthony,  had  been  a  Jacobite,  and 
had  displayed  all  the  enthusiasm  of  that  party  while  it 
could  be  served  with  words  only.  No  man  squeezed  the 

54 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

orange  with  more  significant  gesture;  no  one  could  more 
dexterously  intimate  a  dangerous  health  without  coming 
under  the  penal  statutes;  and,  above  all,  none  drank 
success  to  the  cause  more  deeply  and  devoutly.  But,  on 
the  approach  of  the  Highland  army  in  1745,  it  would 
appear  that  the  worthy  baronet's  zeal  became  a  little 
more  moderate  just  when  its  warmth  was  of  most  con- 
sequence. He  talked  much,  indeed,  of  taking  the  field  for 
the  rights  of  Scotland  and  Charles  Stuart;  but  his  demi- 
pique  saddle  would  suit  only  one  of  his  horses,  and  that 
horse  could  by  no  means  be  brought  to  stand  fire.  Per- 
haps the  worshipful  owner  sympathised  in  the  scruples 
of  this  sagacious  quadruped,  and  began  to  think  that 
what  was  so  much  dreaded  by  the  horse  could  not  be 
very  wholesome  for  the  rider.  At  any  rate,  while  Sir 
Anthony  Wardour  talked  and  drank  and  hesitated,  the 
sturdy  provost  of  Fairport  (who,  as  we  before  noticed, 
was  the  father  of  our  Antiquary)  sallied  from  his  ancient 
burgh,  heading  a  body  of  Whig  burghers,  and  seized  at 
once,  in  the  name  of  George  II,  upon  the  Castle  of 
Knockwinnock  and  on  the  four  carriage-horses  and  per- 
son of  the  proprietor.  Sir  Anthony  was  shortly  after 
sent  off  to  the  Tower  of  London  by  a  secretary  of  state's 
warrant,  and  with  him  went  his  son  Arthur,  then  a 
youth.  But  as  nothing  appeared  like  an  overt  act  of 
treason,  both  father  and  son  were  soon  set  at  Uberty,  and 
returned  to  their  own  mansion  of  Knockwinnock  to 
drink  healths  five  fathoms  deep  and  talk  of  their  suffer- 
ings in  the  royal  cause.  This  became  so  much  a  matter 
of  habit  with  Sir  Arthur  that,  even  after  his  father's 
death,  the  nonjuring  chaplain  used  to  pray  regularly  for 
the  restoration  of  the  rightful  sovereign,  for  the  down- 

55 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


fall  of  the  usurper,  and  for  deliverance  from  their  cruel 
and  bloodthirsty  enemies;  although  all  idea  of  serious 
opposition  to  the  house  of  Hanover  had  long  mouldered 
away,  and  this  treasonable  liturgy  was  kept  up  rather 
as  a  matter  of  form  than  as  conveying  any  distinct 
meaning.  So  much  was  this  the  case  that,  about  the 
year  1770,  upon  a  disputed  election  occurring  in  the 
county,  the  worthy  knight  fairly  gulped  down  the  oaths 
of  abjuration  and  allegiance,  in  order  to  serve  a  candi- 
date in  whom  he  was  interested;  thus  renouncing  the 
heir  for  whose  restoration  he  weekly  petitioned  Heaven, 
and  acknowledging  the  usurper,  whose  dethronement 
he  had  never  ceased  to  pray  for.  And  to  add  to  this 
melancholy  instance  of  human  inconsistency.  Sir  Arthur 
continued  to  pray  for  the  house  of  Stuart  even  after  the 
family  had  been  extinct,  and  when,  in  truth,  though  in 
his  theoretical  loyalty  he  was  pleased  to  regard  them  as 
aHve,  yet  in  all  actual  service  and  practical  exertion  he 
was  a  most  zealous  and  devoted  subject  of  George  IH. 

In  other  respects  Sir  Arthur  Wardour  lived  Hke  most 
country  gentlemen  in  Scotland  —  hunted  and  fished, 
gave  and  received  dinners,  attended  races  and  county 
meetings,  was  a  deputy-lieutenant  and  trustee  upon 
turnpike  acts.  But  in  his  more  advanced  years,  as  he 
became  too  lazy  or  unwieldy  for  field-sports,  he  supplied 
them  by  now  and  then  reading  Scottish  history;  and, 
having  gradually  acquired  a  taste  for  antiquities,  though 
neither  very  deep  nor  very  correct,  he  became  a  crony  of 
his  neighbour,  Mr.  Oldbuck  of  Monkbarns,  and  a  joint 
labourer  with  him  in  his  antiquarian  pursuits. 

There  were,  however,  points  of  difference  between 
these  two  humourists  which  sometimes  occasioned  dis- 

56 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


cord.  The  faith  of  Sir  Arthur,  as  an  antiquary,  was 
boundless,  and  Mr.  Oldbuck  (notwithstanding  the  affair 
of  the  prcetorium  at  the  Kaim  of  Kinprunes)  was  much 
more  scrupulous  in  receiving  legends  as  current  and 
authentic  coin.  Sir  Arthur  would  have  deemed  himself 
guilty  of  the  crime  of  leze-majesty  had  he  doubted  the 
existence  of  any  single  individual  of  that  formidable 
bead-roll  of  one  hundred  and  four  kings  of  Scotland, 
received  by  Boethius,  and  rendered  classical  by  Bu- 
chanan, in  virtue  of  whom  James  VI  claimed  to  rule  his 
ancient  kingdom,  and  whose  portraits  still  frown  grimly 
upon  the  walls  of  the  gallery  of  Holyrood.  Now  Old- 
buck,  a  shrewd  and  suspicious  man,  and  no  respecter  of 
divine  hereditary  right,  was  apt  to  cavil  at  this  sacred 
list,  and  to  affirm  that  the  procession  of  the  posterity  of 
Fergus  through  the  pages  of  Scottish  history  was  as  vain 
and  unsubstantial  as  the  gleamy  pageant  of  the  descend- 
ants of  Banquo  through  the  cavern  of  Hecate. 

Another  tender  topic  was  the  good  fame  of  Queen 
Mary,  of  which  the  knight  was  a  most  chivalrous  as- 
sertor,  while  the  esquire  impugned  it,  in  spite  both  of  her 
beauty  and  misfortunes.  When,  unhappily,  their  con- 
versation turned  on  yet  later  times,  motives  of  discord 
occurred  in  almost  every  page  of  history.  Oldbuck  was 
upon  principle  a  stanch  Presbyterian,  a  ruling  elder  of 
the  kirk,  and  a  friend  to  revolution  principles  and  Pro- 
testant succession,  while  Sir  Arthur  was  the  very  reverse 
of  all  this.  They  agreed,  it  is  true,  in  dutiful  love  and 
allegiance  to  the  sovereign  who  now  fills  ^  the  throne; 
but  this  was  their  only  point  of  union.  It  therefore  often 

^  The  reader  will  understand  that  this  refers  to  the  reign  of  our  late 
Gracious  Sovereign,  George  the  Third. 


57 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


happened  that  bickerings  hot  broke  out  between  them, 
in  which  Oldbuck  was  not  always  able  to  suppress  his 
caustic  humour,  while  it  would  sometimes  occur  to  the 
Baronet  that  the  descendant  of  a  German  printer,  whose 
sires  had  ^sought  the  base  fellowship  of  paltry  burghers/ 
forgot  himself,  and  took  an  unUcensed  freedom  of  de- 
bate, considering  the  rank  and  ancient  descent  of  his 
antagonist.  This,  with  the  old  feud  of  the  coach-horses, 
and  the  seizure  of  his  manor-place  and  tower  of  strength 
by  Mr.  Oldbuck's  father,  would  at  times  rush  upon  his 
mind,  and  inflame  at  once  his  cheeks  and  his  arguments. 
And,  lastly,  as  Mr.  Oldbuck  thought  his  worthy  friend 
and  compeer  was  in  some  respects  Httle  better  than  a 
fool,  he  was  apt  to  come  more  near  communicating  to 
him  that  unfavorable  opinion  than  the  rules  of  modern 
pohteness  warrant.  In  such  cases  they  often  parted  in 
deep  dudgeon,  and  with  something  Hke  a  resolution  to 
forbear  each  other's  company  in  future:  — 

But  with  the  morning  calm  reflection  came; 

and  as  each  was  sensible  that  the  society  of  the  other  had 
become,  through  habit,  essential  to  his  comfort,  the 
breach  was  speedily  made  up  between  them.  On  such 
occasions  Oldbuck,  considering  that  the  Baronet's  pet- 
tishness  resembled  that  of  a  child,  usually  showed  his 
superior  sense  by  compassionately  making  the  first  ad- 
vances to  reconciliation.  But  it  once  or  twice  happened 
that  the  aristocratic  pride  of  the  far-descended  knight 
took  a  flight  too  offensive  to  the  feehngs  of  the  repre- 
sentative of  the  typographer.  In  these  cases  the  breach 
between  these  two  originals  might  have  been  immortal 
but  for  the  kind  exertions  and  interposition  of  the  Bar- 

S8 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


onet's  daughter,  Miss  Isabella  Wardour,  who,  with  a  son, 
now  absent  upon  foreign  and  military  service,  formed  his 
whole  surviving  family.  She  was  well  aware  how  neces- 
sary Mr.  Oldbuck  was  to  her  father's  amusement  and 
comfort,  and  seldom  failed  to  interpose  with  effect  when 
the  office  of  a  mediator  between  them  was  rendered 
necessary  by  the  satirical  shrewdness  of  the  one  or  the 
assumed  superiority  of  the  other.  Under  Isabella's  mild 
influence  the  wrongs  of  Queen  Mary  were  forgotten  by 
her  father,  and  Mr.  Oldbuck  forgave  the  blasphemy 
which  reviled  the  memory  of  King  William.  However, 
as  she  used  in  general  to  take  her  father's  part  playfully 
in  these  disputes,  Oldbuck  was  wont  to  call  Isabella  his 
fair  enemy,  though  in  fact  he  made  more  account  of  her 
than  any  other  of  her  sex,  of  whom,  as  we  have  seen,  he 
was  no  admirer. 

There  existed  another  connexion  betwixt  these  wor- 
thies, which  had  alternately  a  repelling  and  attractive 
influence  upon  their  intimacy.  Sir  Arthur  always  wished 
to  borrow;  Mr.  Oldbuck  was  not  always  willing  to  lend. 
Mr.  Oldbuck,  per  contra^  always  wished  to  be  repaid 
with  regularity;  Sir  Arthur  was  not  always,  nor  indeed 
often,  prepared  to  gratify  this  reasonable  desire;  and,  in 
accomplishing  an  arrangement  between  tendencies  so 
opposite,  Httle  ^miffs'  would  occasionally  take  place. 
Still  there  was  a  spirit  of  mutual  accommodation  upon 
the  whole,  and  they  dragged  on  like  dogs  in  couples, 
with  some  difficulty  and  occasional  snarling,  but  without 
absolutely  coming  to  a  standstill  or  throttling  each  other. 

Some  little  disagreement  such  as  we  have  mentioned, 
arising  out  of  business  or  politics,  had  divided  the  houses 
of  Knockwinnock  and  Monkbarns  when  the  emissary  of 

59 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


the  latter  arrived  to  discharge  his  errand.  In  his  ancient 
Gothic  parlour,  whose  windows  on  one  side  looked  out 
upon  the  restless  ocean,  and  on  the  other  upon  the  long 
straight  avenue,  was  the  Baronet  seated,  now  turning 
over  the  leaves  of  a  folio,  now  casting  a  weary  glance 
where  the  sun  quivered  on  the  dark-green  foliage  and 
smooth  trunks  of  the  large  and  branching  limes  with 
which  the  avenue  was  planted.  At  length,  sight  of  joy! 
a  moving  object  is  seen,  and  it  gives  rise  to  the  usual 
inquiries.  Who  is  it?  and  what  can  be  his  errand?  The 
old  whitish-grey  coat,  the  hobbling  gait,  the  hat,  half- 
slouched,  half-cocked,  announced  the  forlorn  maker  of 
periwigs,  and  left  for  investigation  only  the  second 
query.  This  was  soon  solved  by  a  servant  entering  the 
parlour  — ^A  letter  from  Monkbarns,  Sir  Arthur.' 

Sir  Arthur  took  the  epistle  with  a  due  assumption 
of  consequential  dignity. 

'Take  the  old  man  into  the  kitchen  and  let  him  get 
some  refreshment,'  said  the  young  lady,  whose  compas- 
sionate eye  had  remarked  his  thin  grey  hair  and  wearied 
gait. 

'Mr.  Oldbuck,  my  love,  invites  us  to  dinner  on  Tues- 
day the  17th,'  said  the  Baronet,  pausing;  'he  really 
seems  to  forget  that  he  has  not  of  late  conducted  himself 
so  civilly  towards  me  as  might  have  been  expected.' 

'Dear  sir,  you  have  so  many  advantages  over  poor 
Mr.  Oldbuck  that  no  wonder  it  should  put  him  a  Httle 
out  of  humour;  but  I  know  he  has  much  respect  for  your 
person  and  your  conversation;  nothing  would  give  him 
more  pain  than  to  be  wanting  in  any  real  attention.' 

'True,  true,  Isabella;  and  one  must  allow  for  the  orig- 
inal descent:  something  of  the  German  boorishness  still 

60 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


flows  in  the  blood,  something  of  the  Whiggish  and  per- 
verse opposition  to  established  rank  and  privilege.  You 
may  observe  that  he  never  has  any  advantage  of  me  in 
dispute  unless  when  he  avails  himself  of  a  sort  of  petti- 
fogging intimacy  with  dates,  names,  and  trifling  matters 
of  fact,  a  tiresome  and  frivolous  accuracy  of  memory 
which  is  entirely  owing  to  his  mechanical  descent.' 

'He  must  find  it  convenient  in  historical  investigation, 
I  should  think,  sir? '  said  the  young  lady. 

'It  leads  to  an  uncivil  and  positive  mode  of  disputing; 
and  nothing  seems  more  unreasonable  than  to  hear  him 
impugn  even  Bellenden's  rare  translation  of  Hector 
Boece,  which  I  have  the  satisfaction  to  possess,  and 
which  is  a  black-letter  folio  of  great  value,  upon  the 
authority  of  some  old  scrap  of  parchment  which  he  has 
saved  from  its  deserved  destiny  of  being  cut  up  into 
tailors'  measures.  And,  besides,  that  habit  of  minute 
and  troublesome  accuracy  leads  to  a  mercantile  manner 
of  doing  business,  which  ought  to  be  beneath  a  landed 
proprietor  whose  family  has  stood  two  or  three  genera- 
tions. I  question  if  there's  a  dealer's  clerk  in  Fairport 
that  can  sum  an  account  of  interest  better  than  Monk- 
barns.' 

'But  you'll  accept  his  invitation,  sir?* 

'Why,  ye — yes;  we  have  no  other  engagement  on 
hand,  I  think.  Who  can  the  young  man  be  he  talks  of? 
he  seldom  picks  up  new  acquaintance;  and  he  has  no 
relation  that  I  ever  heard  of.' 

'Probably  some  relation  of  his  brother-in-law,  Cap- 
tain M'Intyre.' 

'Very  possibly.  Yes,  we  will  accept;  the  M'ln tyres 
are  of  a  very  ancient  Highland  family.  You  may  answer 

6i 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


his  card  in  the  affirmative,  Isabella;  I  believe  I  have  no 
leisure  to  be  "Dear  Sirring"  myself.' 

So  this  important  matter  being  adjusted,  Miss  Ward- 
our  intimated  ^her  own  and  Sir  Arthur's  compliments, 
and  that  they  would  have  the  honour  of  waiting  upon 
Mr.  Oldbuck.  Miss  Wardour  takes  this  opportunity  to 
renew  her  hostility  with  Mr.  Oldbuck,  on  account  of  his 
late  long  absence  from  Knockwinnock,  where  his  visits 
give  so  much  pleasure.'  With  this  placebo  she  concluded 
her  note,  with  which  old  Caxon,  now  refreshed  in  Umbs 
and  wind,  set  out  on  his  return  to  the  Antiquary's 
mansion. 


CHAPTER  VI 


Moth.  By  Woden,  God  of  Saxons, 
From  whence  comes  Wensday,  that  is  Wednesday, 
Truth  is  a  thing  that  I  will  ever  keep 
Unto  thylke  day  in  which  I  creep  into 
My  sepulcre. 

Cartwright's  Ordinary, 

Our  young  friend  Lovel,  who  had  received  a  corre- 
sponding invitation,  punctual  to  the  hour  of  appoint- 
ment, arrived  at  Monkbarns  about  five  minutes  before 
four  o'clock  on  the  17th  of  July.  The  day  had  been  re- 
markably sultry,  and  large  drops  of  rain  had  occasion- 
ally fallen,  though  the  threatened  showers  had  as  yet 
passed  away. 

Mr.  Oldbuck  received  him  at  the  Palmer's  Port  in  his 
complete  brown  suit,  grey  silk  stockings,  and  wig  pow- 
dered with  all  the  skill  of  the  veteran  Caxon,  who,  hav- 
ing smelt  out  the  dinner,  had  taken  care  not  to  finish  his 
job  till  the  hour  of  eating  approached. 

'You  are  welcome  to  my  symposion,  Mr.  Lovel;  and 
now  let  me  introduce  you  to  my  Clogdogdo's,  as  Tom 
Otter  calls  them  —  my  unlucky  and  good-for-nothing 
womankind  —  malce  besticB,  Mr.  Lovel.' 

*I  shall  be  disappointed,  sir,  if  I  do  not  find  the  ladies 
very  undeserving  of  your  satire.' 

'Tilley- valley,  Mr.  Lovel  —  which,  by  the  way,  one 
commentator  derives  from  tiUivillitium  and  another 
from  talley-ho  —  but  tilley- valley,  I  say,  a  truce  with 
your  politeness.  You  will  find  them  but  samples  of 
womankind.  But  here  they  be,  Mr.  Lovel.  I  present  to 
you,  in  due  order,  my  most  discreet  sister  Griselda,  who 

63 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


disdains  the  simplicity,  as  well  as  patience,  annexed  to 
the  poor  old  name  of  Grizel;  and  my  most  exquisite  niece 
Maria,  whose  mother  was  called  Mary,  and  sometimes 
Molly.' 

The  elderly  lady  rustled  in  silks  and  satins,  and  bore 
upon  her  head  a  structure  resembling  the  fashion  in  the 
ladies'  memorandum-book  for  the  year  1770,  a  superb 
piece  of  architecture  not  much  less  than  a  modern 
Gothic  castle,  of  which  the  curls  might  represent  the 
turrets,  the  black  pins  the  chevaux  de  frisCf  and  the 
lappets  the  banners. 

The  face  which,  like  that  of  the  ancient  statues  of 
Vesta,  was  thus  crowned  with  towers,  was  large  and 
long,  and  peaked  at  nose  and  chin,  and  bore  in  other 
respects  such  a  ludicrous  resemblance  to  the  physiog- 
nomy of  Mr.  Jonathan  Oldbuck  that  Lovel,  had  they 
not  appeared  at  once,  hke  Sebastian  and  Viola  in  the  last 
scene  of  the  *  Twelfth  Night,'  might  have  supposed  that 
the  figure  before  him  was  his  old  friend  masquerading  in 
female  attire.  An  antique  flowered  silk  gown  graced  the 
extraordinary  person  to  whom  belonged  this  unpar- 
alleled tete,  which  her  brother  was  wont  to  say  was  fitter 
for  a  turban  for  Mahound  or  Termagant  than  a  head- 
gear for  a  reasonable  creature  or  Christian  gentlewoman. 
Two  long  and  bony  arms  were  terminated  at  the  elbows 
by  triple  blond  rufHes,  and,  being  folded  saltire-wa;ys  in 
front  of  her  person,  and  decorated  with  long  gloves  of  a 
bright  vermilion  colour,  presented  no  bad  resemblance 
to  a  pair  of  gigantic  lobsters.  High-heeled  shoes,  and  a 
short  silk  cloak,  thrown  in  easy  negligence  over  her 
shoulders,  completed  the  exterior  of  Miss  Griselda  Old- 
buck. 

64 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

Her  niece,  the  same  whom  Lovel  had  seen  transiently 
during  his  first  visit,  was  a  pretty  young  woman,  gen- 
teelly dressed  according  to  the  fashion  of  the  day,  with  an 
air  of  espieglerie  which  became  her  very  well,  and  which 
was  perhaps  derived  from  the  caustic  humour  peculiar 
to  her  uncle's  family,  though  softened  by  transmission. 

Mr.  Lovel  paid  his  respects  to  both  ladies,  and  was 
answered  by  the  elder  with  the  prolonged  curtsy  of 
1760,  drawn  from  the  righteous  period 

When  folks  conceived  a  grace 

Of  half  an  hour's  space, 

And  rejoiced  in  a  Friday's  capon, 

and  by  the  younger  with  a  modern  reverence,  which, 
like  the  festive  benediction  of  a  modern  divine,  was  of 
much  shorter  duration. 

While  this  salutation  was  exchanging.  Sir  Arthur, 
with  his  fair  daughter  hanging  upon  his  arm,  having 
dismissed  his  chariot,  appeared  at  the  garden  door,  and 
in  all  due  form  paid  his  respects  to  the  ladies. 

'Sir  Arthur,'  said  the  Antiquary,  'and  you,  my  fair 
foe,  let  me  make  known  to  you  my  young  friend  Mr. 
Lovel,  a  gentleman  who,  during  the  scarlet-fever  which 
is  epidemic  at  present  in  this  our  island,  has  the  virtue 
and  decency  to  appear  in  a  coat  of  a  civil  complexion. 
You  see,  however,  that  the  fashionable  colour  has  mus- 
tered in  his  cheeks  which  appears  not  in  his  garments. 
Sir  Arthur,  let  me  present  to  you  a  young  gentleman 
whom  your  farther  knowledge  will  find  grave,  wise, 
courtly,  and  scholar-hke,  well  seen,  deeply  read,  and 
thoroughly  grounded  in  all  the  hidden  mysteries  of  the 
greenroom  and  stage,  from  the  days  of  Davie  Lindsay 
6  65 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


down  to  those  of  Dibdin,  —  he  blushes  again,  which  is  a 
sign  of  grace.' 

^My  brother/  said  Miss  Griselda,  addressing  Lovel, 
'has  a  humorous  way  of  expressing  himself,  sir;  nobody 
thinks  anything  of  what  Monkbarns  says;  so  I  beg  you 
will  not  be  so  confused  for  the  matter  of  his  nonsense. 
But  you  must  have  had  a  warm  walk  beneath  this  broil- 
ing sun;  would  you  take  ony  thing?  —  a  glass  of  balm 
wine?' 

Ere  Lovel  could  answer,  the  Antiquary  interposed, 
'Aroint  thee,  witch!  wouldst  thou  poison  my  guests  with 
thy  infernal  decoctions?  Dost  thou  not  remember  how 
it  fared  with  the  clergyman  whom  you  seduced  to  par- 
take of  that  deceitful  beverage?' 

'O  fie,  fie,  brother.  Sir  Arthur,  did  you  ever  hear  the 
like!  He  must  have  everything  his  ain  way,  or  he  will 
invent  such  stories.  But  there  goes  Jenny  to  ring  the  old 
bell  to  tell  us  that  the  dinner  is  ready.' 

Rigid  in  his  economy,  Mr.  Oldbuck  kept  no  male  ser- 
vant. This  he  disguised  under  the  pretext  that  the  mas- 
culine sex  was  too  noble  to  be  employed  in  those  acts  of 
personal  servitude  which,  in  all  early  periods  of  society, 
were  uniformly  imposed  on  the  female.  '  Why,'  would  he 
say,  'did  the  boy  Tam  Rintherout,  whom,  at  my  wise 
sister's  instigation,  I,  with  equal  wisdom,  took  upon 
trial  —  why  did  he  pilfer  apples,  take  birds'  nests,  break 
glasses,  and  ultimately  steal  my  spectacles,  except  that 
he  felt  that  noble  emulation  which  swells  in  the  bosom  of 
the  masculine  sex,  which  has  conducted  him  to  Flanders 
with  a  musket  on  his  shoulder,  and  doubtless  will  pro- 
mote him  to  a  glorious  halbert,  or  even  to  the  gallows? 
And  why  does  this  girl,  his  full  sister,  Jenny  Rintherout, 

66 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

move  in  the  same  vocation  with  safe  and  noiseless  step, 
shod  or  unshod,  soft  as  the  pace  of  a  cat,  and  docile  as  a 
spaniel  —  why?  but  because  she  is  in  her  vocation.  Let 
them  minister  to  us.  Sir  Arthur  —  let  them  minister,  I 
say;  it's  the  only  thing  they  are  fit  for.  All  ancient  legis- 
lators, from  Lycurgus  to  Mahommed,  corruptly  called 
Mahomet,  agree  in  putting  them  in  their  proper  and 
subordinate  rank,  and  it  is  only  the  crazy  heads  of  our 
old  chivalrous  ancestors  that  erected  their  Dulcineas 
into  despotic  princesses.' 

Miss  Wardour  protested  loudly  against  this  ungallant 
doctrine;  but  the  bell  now  rung  for  dinner. 

^Let  me  do  all  the  offices  of  fair  courtesy  to  so  fair  an 
antagonist,'  said  the  old  gentleman,  offering  his  arm.  *I 
remember.  Miss  Wardour,  Mahommed  (vulgarly  Ma- 
homet) had  some  hesitation  about  the  mode  of  summon- 
ing his  Moslemah  to  prayer.  He  rejected  bells  as  used  by 
Christians,  trumpets  as  the  summons  of  the  Guebres, 
and  finally  adopted  the  human  voice.  I  have  had  equal 
doubt  concerning  my  dinner-call.  Gongs,  now  in  present 
use,  seemed  a  newfangled  and  heathenish  invention,  and 
the  voice  of  the  female  womankind  I  rejected  as  equally 
shrill  and  dissonant;  wherefore,  contrary  to  the  said 
Mahommed,  or  Mahomet,  I  have  resumed  the  bell.  It 
has  a  local  propriety,  since  it  was  the  conventual  signal 
for  spreading  the  repast  in  their  refectory,  and  it  has  the 
advantage  over  the  tongue  of  my  sister's  prime  minister 
Jenny,  that,  though  not  quite  so  loud  and  shrill,  it 
ceases  ringing  the  instant  you  drop  the  bell-rope; 
whereas  we  know  by  sad  experience  that  any  attempt  to 
silence  Jenny  only  wakes  the  sympathetic  chime  of  Miss 
Oldbuck  and  Mary  M'Intyre  to  join  in  chorus.' 

67 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


With  this  discourse  he  led  the  way  to  his  dining- 
parlour,  which  Lovel  had  not  yet  seen;  it  was  wain- 
scotted,  and  contained  some  curious  paintings.  The 
dining- table  was  attended  by  Jenny;  but  an  old  super- 
intendent, a  sort  of  female  butler,  stood  by  the  side- 
board, and  underwent  the  burden  of  bearing  several 
reproofs  from  Mr.  Oldbuck,  and  innuendos,  not  so 
much  marked  but  not  less  cutting,  from  his  sister. 

The  dinner  was  such  as  suited  a  professed  antiquary, 
comprehending  many  savoury  specimens  of  Scottish 
viands  now  disused  at  the  tables  of  those  who  affect 
elegance.  There  was  the  relishing  solan  goose,  whose 
smell  is  so  powerful  that  he  is  never  cooked  within  doors. 
Blood-raw  he  proved  to  be  on  this  occasion,  so  that  Old- 
buck  half-threatened  to  throw  the  greasy  sea-fowl  at  the 
head  of  the  negligent  housekeeper,  who  acted  as  priest- 
ess in  presenting  this  odoriferous  offering.  But,  by  good 
hap,  she  had  been  most  fortunate  in  the  hotchpotch, 
which  was  unanimously  pronounced  to  be  inimitable. 

knew  we  should  succeed  here,'  said  Oldbuck  exult- 
ingly ,  ^  for  Davie  Dibble,  the  gardener  —  an  old  bache- 
lor like  myself  —  takes  care  the  rascally  women  do  not 
dishonour  our  vegetables.  And  here  is  fish  and  sauce 
and  crappit-heads.  I  acknowledge  our  womankind  excel 
in  that  dish;  it  procures  them  the  pleasure  of  scolding, 
for  half  an  hour  at  least,  twice  a  week,  with  auld  Maggy 
Mucklebackit,  our  fishwife.  The  chicken-pie,  Mr.  Lovel, 
is  made  after  a  recipe  bequeathed  to  me  by  my  departed 
grandmother  of  happy  memory.  And  if  you  will  venture 
on  a  glass  of  wine  you  will  find  it  worthy  of  one  who  pro- 
fesses the  maxim  of  King  Alphonso  of  Castile  —  Old 
wood  to  burn,  old  books  to  read,  old  wine  to  drink,  and 

68 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


old  friends,  Sir  Arthur  —  ay,  Mr.  Lovel,  and  young 
friends  too  —  to  converse  with.' 

^And  what  news  do  you  bring  us  from  Edinburgh, 
Monkbarns? '  said  Sir  Arthur;  'how  wags  the  world  in 
Auld  Reekie?' 

^Mad,  Sir  Arthur,  mad  —  irretrievably  frantic  —  far 
beyond  dipping  in  the  sea,  shaving  the  crown,  or  drink- 
ing hellebore.  The  worst  sort  of  frenzy,  a  military 
frenzy,  hath  possessed  man,  woman,  and  child.' 

'And  high  time,  I  think,'  said  Miss  Wardour,  'when 
we  are  threatened  with  invasion  from  abroad  and  insur- 
rection at  home.' 

'O,  I  did  not  doubt  you  would  join  the  scarlet  host 
against  me:  women,  like  turkeys,  are  always  subdued  by 
a  red  rag.  But  what  says  Sir  Arthur,  whose  dreams  are 
of  standing  armies  and  German  oppression?' 

'Why,  I  say,  Mr.  Oldbuck,'  replied  the  knight,  'that, 
so  far  as  I  am  capable  of  judging,  we  ought  to  resist  cum 
toto  cor  pore  regni,  as  the  phrase  is,  unless  I  have  alto- 
gether forgotten  my  Latin,  an  enemy  who  comes  to 
propose  to  us  a  Whiggish  sort  of  government,  a  repub- 
lican system,  and  who  is  aided  and  abetted  by  a  sort  of 
fanatics  of  the  worst  kind  in  our  own  bowels.  I  have 
taken  some  measures,  I  assure  you,  such  as  become  my 
rank  in  the  community;  for  I  have  directed  the  con- 
stables to  take  up  that  old  scoundrelly  beggar,  Edie 
Ochiltree,  for  spreading  disaffection  against  church  and 
state  through  the  whole  parish.  He  said  plainly  to  old 
Caxon  that  Johnnie  Howie's  Kilmarnock  cowl  covered 
more  sense  than  all  the  three  wigs  in  the  parish.  I  think 
it  is  easy  to  make  out  that  innuendo.  But  the  rogue  shall 
be  taught  better  manners.' 

69 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


'0  no,  my  dear  sir/  exclaimed  Miss  Wardour,  ^not  old 
Edie,  that  we  have  known  so  long.  I  assure  you  no  con- 
stable shall  have  my  good  graces  that  executes  such  a 
warrant/ 

^Ay,  there  it  goes/  said  the  Antiquary;  ^you,  to  be  a 
stanch  Tory,  Sir  Arthur,  have  nourished  a  fine  sprig  of 
Whiggery  in  your  bosom.  Why,  Miss  Wardour  is  alone 
sufficient  to  control  a  whole  quarter-session  —  a  quarter- 
session?  ay,  a  general  assembly  or  convocation  to  boot 
—  a  Boadicea  she,  an  Amazon,  a  Zenobia.' 

^And  yet,  with  all  my  courage,  Mr.  Oldbuck,  I  am 
glad  to  hear  our  people  are  getting  under  arms.' 

^ Under  arms.  Lord  love  thee!  didst  thou  ever  read  the 
history  of  Sister  Margaret,  which  flowed  from  a  head 
that,  though  now  old  and  somedele  grey,  has  more  sense 
and  political  intelligence  than  you  find  nowadays  in  a 
whole  synod?  Dost  thou  remember  the  Nurse's  dream 
in  that  exquisite  work,  which  she  recounts  in  such  agony 
to  Hubble  Bubble?  When  she  would  have  taken  up  a 
piece  of  broadcloth  in  her  vision,  lo !  it  exploded  like  a 
great  iron  cannon;  when  she  put  out  her  hand  to  save  a 
pirn,  it  perked  up  in  her  face  in  the  form  of  a  pistol.  My 
own  vision  in  Edinburgh  has  been  something  similar.  I 
called  to  consult  my  lawyer;  he  was  clothed  in  a  dra- 
goon's dress,  belted  and  casqued,  and  about  to  mount  a 
charger,  which  his  writing-clerk  (habited  as  a  sharp- 
shooter) walked  to  and  fro  before  his  door.  I  went  to 
scold  my  agent  for  having  sent  me  to  advise  with  a  mad- 
man; he  had  stuck  into  his  head  the  plume  which  in  more 
sober  days  he  wielded  between  his  fingers,  and  figured  as 
an  artillery  officer.  My  mercer  had  his  spontoon  in  his 
hand,  as  if  he  measured  his  cloth  by  that  implement 

70 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


instead  of  a  legitimate  yard.  The  banker's  clerk,  who 
was  directed  to  sum  my  cash-account,  blundered  it  three 
times,  being  disordered  by  the  recollection  of  his  military 
tellings-off  "  at  the  morning  drill.  I  was  ill,  and  sent  for 
a  surgeon  — 

He  came;  but  valour  so  had  fired  his  eye, 
And  such  a  falchion  glittered  on  his  thigh, 
That,  by  the  gods,  with  such  a  load  of  steel, 
I  thought  he  came  to  murder,  not  to  heal! 

I  had  recourse  to  a  physician,  but  he  also  was  practising 
a  more  wholesale  mode  of  slaughter  than  that  which  his 
profession  had  been  supposed  at  all  times  to  open  to  him. 
And  now,  since  I  have  returned  here,  even  our  wise 
neighbours  of  Fairport  have  caught  the  same  valiant 
humour.  I  hate  a  gun  like  a  hurt  wild  duck,  I  detest  a 
drum  like  a  Quaker;  and  they  thunder  and  rattle  out 
yonder  upon  the  town's  common  so  that  every  volley 
and  roll  goes  to  my  very  heart.' 

'Dear  brother,  dinna  speak  that  gate  o'  the  gentlemen 
volunteers;  I  am  sure  they  have  a  most  becoming  uni- 
form. Weel  I  wot  they  have  been  wet  to  the  very  skin 
twice  last  week;  I  met  them  marching  in  terribly  drou- 
kit,  an  mony  a  sair  hoast  was  amang  them.  And  the 
trouble  they  take,  I  am  sure  it  claims  our  gratitude.' 

'And  I  am  sure,'  said  Miss  MTntyre,  'that  my  uncle 
sent  twenty  guineas  to  help  out  their  equipments.* 

'It  was  to  buy  liquorice  and  sugar-candy,'  said  the  > 
cynic,  'to  encourage  the  trade  of  the  place,  and  to  re- 
fresh the  throats  of  the  officers  who  had  bawled  them- 
selves hoarse  in  the  service  of  their  country.' 

'Take  care,  Monkbarns!  we  shall  set  you  down  among 
the  black-nebs  by  and  by.' 


71 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


*No,  Sir  Arthur,  a  tame  grumbler  I.  I  only  claim  the 
privilege  of  croaking  in  my  own  corner  here,  without 
uniting  my  throat  to  the  grand  chorus  of  the  marsh. 
Ni  quito  rey,  ni  pongo  rey  —  I  neither  make  king  nor  mar 
king,  as  Sancho  says,  but  pray  heartily  for  our  own 
sovereign,  pay  scot  and  lot,  and  grumble  at  the  excise- 
man. But  here  comes  the  ewe-milk  cheese  in  good  time; 
it  is  a  better  digestive  than  pohtics.' 

When  dinner  was  over  and  the  decanters  placed  on 
the  table,  Mr.  Oldbuck  proposed  the  King's  health  in  a 
bumper,  which  was  readily  acceded  to  both  by  Lovel 
and  the  Baronet,  the  Jacobitism  of  the  latter  being  now 
a  sort  of  speculative  opinion  merely  —  the  shadow  of  a 
shade. 

After  the  ladies  had  left  the  apartment,  the  landlord 
and  Sir  Arthur  entered  into  several  exquisite  discussions, 
in  which  the  younger  guest,  either  on  account  of  the 
abstruse  erudition  which  they  involved,  or  for  some 
other  reason,  took  but  a  slender  share,  till  at  length  he 
was  suddenly  started  out  of  a  profound  reverie  by  an 
unexpected  appeal  to  his  judgment. 

'I  will  stand  by  what  Mr.  Lovel  says;  he  was  born  in 
the  north  of  England,  and  may  know  the  very  spot.' 

Sir  Arthur  thought  it  unlikely  that  so  young  a  gentle- 
man should  have  paid  much  attention  to  matters  of  that 
sort. 

am  advised  of  the  contrary,'  said  Oldbuck.  'How 
say  you,  Mr.  Lovel?  Speak  up  for  your  own  credit,  man.' 

Lovel  was  obliged  to  confess  himself  in  the  ridiculous 
situation  of  one  alike  ignorant  of  the  subject  of  conver- 
sation and  controversy  which  had  engaged  the  company 
for  an  hour. 


72 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


^Lord  help  the  lad,  his  head  has  been  wool-gathering! 
I  thought  how  it  would  be  when  the  womankind  were 
admitted  —  no  getting  a  word  of  sense  out  of  a  young 
fellow  for  six  hours  after.  Why,  man,  there  was  once  a 
people  called  the  Piks  — ' 

^More  properly  Picts,'  interrupted  the  Baronet. 

*I  say  the  Pikar,  Pihar,  Piochtar,  Piaghter,  or 
Peughtar/  vociferated  Oldbuck;  Hhey  spoke  a  Gothic 
dialect — ' 

^  Genuine  Celtic,'  again  asseverated  the  knight. 

'Gothic!  Gothic,  I'll  go  to  death  upon  it!'  counter- 
asseverated  the  squire. 

'Why,  gentlemen,'  said  Lovel,  'I  conceive  that  is  a 
dispute  which  may  be  easily  settled  by  philologists,  if 
there  are  any  remains  of  the  language.' 

'There  is  but  one  word,'  said  the  Baronet,  'but,  in 
spite  of  Mr.  Oldbuck's  pertinacity,  it  is  decisive  of  the 
question.' 

'Yes,  in  my  favour,'  said  Oldbuck.  'Mr.  Lovel,  you 
shall  be  judge.  I  have  the  learned  Pinkerton  on  my 
side.' 

'I,  on  mine,  the  indefatigable  and  erudite  Chalmers.' 

'Gordon  comes  into  my  opinion.' 

'Sir  Robert  Sibbald  holds  mine.' 

'  Innes  is  with  me ! '  vociferated  Oldbuck. 

'Ritson  has  no  doubt!'  shouted  the  Baronet. 

'Truly,  gentlemen,'  said  Lovel,  'before  you  muster 
your  forces  and  overwhelm  me  with  authorities  I  should 
like  to  know  the  word  in  dispute.' 

^Benval,^  said  both  the  disputants  at  once. 

'Which  signifies  caput  valli/  said  Sir  Arthur. 

'The  head  of  the  wall,'  echoed  Oldbuck. 

73 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


There  was  a  deep  pause.  *It  is  rather  a  narrow  foun- 
dation to  build  a  hypothesis  upon/  observed  the  arbiter. 

^Not  a  whit,  not  a  whit/  said  Oldbuck;  ^men  fight 
best  in  a  narrow  ring:  an  inch  is  as  good  as  a  mile  for  a 
home- thrust.^ 

^It  is  decidedly  Celtic/  said  the  Baronet;  ^every  hill 
in  the  Highlands  begins  with  "ben.'" 

'But  what  say  you  to  "val/'  Sir  Arthur?  is  it  not 
decidedly  the  Saxon  "wall"?' 

'It  is  the  Roman  vallum,'^  said  Sir  Arthur;  'the  Picts 
borrowed  that  part  of  the  word.' 

'No  such  thing;  if  they  borrowed  anything,  it  must 
have  been  your  "ben,"  which  they  might  have  from  the 
neighbouring  Britons  of  Strath  Cluyd.' 

'The  Piks,  or  Picts,'  said  Lovel,  'must  have  been 
singularly  poor  in  dialect,  since  in  the  only  remaining 
word  of  their  vocabulary,  and  that  consisting  only  of 
two  syllables,  they  have  been  confessedly  obliged  to 
borrow  one  of  them  from  another  language;  and,  me- 
thinks,  gentlemen,  with  submission,  the  controversy  is 
not  unlike  that  which  the  two  knights  fought  concerning 
the  shield  that  had  one  side  white  and  the  other  black. 
Each  of  you  claim  one-half  of  the  word,  and  seem  to 
resign  the  other.  But  what  strikes  me  most  is  the  pov- 
erty of  the  language  which  has  left  such  slight  vestiges 
behind  it.' 

'You  are  in  an  error,'  said  Sir  Arthur;  'it  was  a  copious 
language,  and  they  were  a  great  and  powerful  people; 
built  two  steeples  —  one  at  Brechin,  one  at  Abernethy. 
The  Pictish  maidens  of  the  blood  royal  were  kept  in 
Edinburgh  Castle,  thence  called  Castrum  Puellarum.^ 

'A  childish  legend,'  said  Oldbuck,  'invented  to  give 

74 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


consequence  to  trumpery  womankind.  It  was  called  the 
Maiden  Castle,  quasi  lucus  a  non  lucendo,  because  it  re- 
sisted every  attack,  and  women  never  do.' 

'There  is  a  list  of  the  Pictish  kings,'  persisted  Sir 
Arthur,  Veil  authenticated,  from  Crentheminachcryme 
(the  date  of  whose  reign  is  somewhat  uncertain)  down  to 
Drusterstone,  whose  death  concluded  their  dynasty. 
Half  of  them  have  the  Celtic  patronymic  Mac  prefixed 

—  Mac,  id  est  filius;  what  do  you  say  to  that,  Mr.  Old- 
buck?  There  is  Drust  Macmorachin,  Trynel  Maclachlin 
(first  of  that  ancient  clan,  as  it  may  be  judged),  and 
Gormach  Macdonald,  Alpin  Macmetegus,  Drust  Mac- 
tallargam  (here  he  was  interrupted  by  a  fit  of  coughing), 
ugh,  ugh,  ugh  —  Golarge  Macchan  —  ugh,  ugh  — 
Macchanan  —  ugh  —  Macchananail  —  Kenneth  —  ugh 

—  ugh  —  Macferedith,  Eachan  Macfungus  —  and 
twenty  more,  decidedly  Celtic  names,  which  I  could 
repeat  if  this  damned  cough  would  let  me.' 

'Take  a  glass  of  wine.  Sir  Arthur,  and  drink  down  that 
beadroll  of  unbaptised  jargon,  that  would  choke  the 
devil;  why,  that  last  fellow  has  the  only  intelligible  name 
you  have  repeated.  They  are  all  of  the  tribe  of  Mac- 
fungus,  mushroom  monarchs  every  one  of  them,  sprung 
up  from  the  fumes  of  conceit,  folly,  and  falsehood  fer- 
menting in  the  brains  of  some  mad  Highland  seannachie.' 

'I  am  surprised  to  hear  you,  Mr.  Oldbuck;  you  know, 
or  ought  to  know,  that  the  list  of  these  potentates  was 
copied  by  Henry  Maule  of  Melgum  from  the Chronicles 
of  Loch-Leven  "  and  Saint  Andrews,"  and  put  forth  by 
him  in  his  short  but  satisfactory  "History  of  the  Picts," 
printed  by  Robert  Freebairn  of  Edinburgh,  and  sold 
by  him  at  his  shop  in  the  Parliament  Close,  in  the  year 


7S 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


of  God  seventeen  hundred  and  five,  or  six,  I  am  not  pre- 
cisely certain  which;  but  I  have  a  copy  at  home  that 
stands  next  to  my  twelvemo  copy  of  the  Scots  Acts,  and 
ranges  on  the  shelf  with  them  very  well.  What  say  you 
to  that,  Mr.  Oldbuck?' 

^Say?  Why,  I  laugh  at  Harry  Maule  and  his  history,' 
answered  Oldbuck,  'and  thereby  comply  with  his  re- 
quest, of  giving  it  entertainment  according  to  its  merits.' 

'Do  not  laugh  at  a  better  man  than  yourself,'  said  Sir 
Arthur,  somewhat  scornfully. 

'I  do  not  conceive  I  do.  Sir  Arthur,  in  laughing  either 
at  him  or  his  history.' 

'Henry  Maule  of  Melgum  was  a  gentleman,  Mr. 
Oldbuck.' 

'I  presume  he  had  no  advantage  of  me  in  that  par- 
ticular,' replied  the  Antiquary,  somewhat  tartly. 

'Permit  me,  Mr.  Oldbuck;  he  was  a  gentleman  of  high 
family  and  ancient  descent,  and  therefore  — ' 

'The  descendant  of  a  Westphalian  printer  should 
speak  of  him  with  deference?  Such  may  be  your  opinion, 
Sir  Arthur;  it  is  not  mine.  I  conceive  that  my  descent 
from  that  painful  and  industrious  typographer.  Wolf- 
brand  Oldenbuck,  who,  in  the  month  of  December  1493, 
under  the  patronage,  as  the  colophon  tells  us,  of  Sebal- 
dus  Scheyter  and  Sebastian  Kammermaister,  accom- 
plished the  printing  of  the  great  Chronicle  of  Nurem- 
berg" —  I  conceive,  I  say,  that  my  descent  from  that 
great  restorer  of  learning  is  more  creditable  to  me  as  a 
man  of  letters  than  if  I  had  numbered  in  my  genealogy 
all  the  brawhng,  bullet-headed,  iron-fisted  old  Gothic 
barons  since  the  days  of  Crentheminachcryme,  not  one 
of  whom,  I  suppose,  could  write  his  own  name.' 

76 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


^If  you  mean  the  observation  as  a  sneer  at  my  ances- 
try/ said  the  knight,  with  an  assumption  of  dignified 
superiority  and  composure,  have  the  pleasure  to  in- 
form you  that  the  name  of  my  ancestor  Gamelyn  de 
Guardover,  miles,  is  written  fairly  with  his  own  hand  in 
the  earliest  copy  of  the  Ragman  Roll.' 

*  Which  only  serves  to  show  that  he  was  one  of  the 
earliest  who  set  the  mean  example  of  submitting  to  Ed- 
ward !•  What  have  you  to  say  for  the  stainless  loyalty 
of  your  family,  Sir  Arthur,  after  such  a  backsUding  as 
that?' 

'It's  enough,  sir,'  said  Sir  Arthur,  starting  up  fiercely 
and  pushing  back  his  chair;  'I  shall  hereafter  take  care 
how  I  honour  with  my  company  one  who  shows  himself 
so  ungrateful  for  my  condescension.' 

'In  that  you  will  do  as  you  find  most  agreeable,  Sir 
Arthur;  I  hope  that,  as  I  was  not  aware  of  the  extent  of 
the  obligation  which  you  have  done  me  by  visiting  my 
poor  house,  I  may  be  excused  for  not  having  carried  my 
gratitude  to  the  extent  of  servility.' 

'Mighty  well  —  mighty  well,  Mr.  Oldbuck;  I  wish 
you  a  good  evening.  Mr.  a — a — a — Shovel,  I  wish  you  a 
very  good  evening.' 

^  Out  of  the  parlour  door  flounced  the  incensed  Sir 
Arthur,  as  if  the  spirit  of  the  whole  Round  Table  in- 
flamed his  single  bosom,  and  traversed  with  long  strides 
the  labyrinth  of  passages  which  conducted  to  the  draw- 
ing-room. 

'   'Did  you  ever  hear  such  an  old  tup-headed  ass?'  said 
Oldbuck,  briefly  apostrophising  Lovel;  'but  I  must  not 
let  him  go  in  this  mad-like  way  neither.' 
So  saying,  he  pushed  off  after  the  retreating  Baronet, 

77 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


whom  he  traced  by  the  clang  of  several  doors  which  he 
opened  in  search  of  the  apartment  for  tea,  and  slammed 
with  force  behind  him  at  every  disappointment.  *  You  '11 
do  yourself  a  mischief/  roared  the  Antiquary.  ^Qui 
ambulat  in  tenebris,  nescit  quo  vadit  —  you'll  tumble 
down  the  backs tair.' 

Sir  Arthur  had  now  got  involved  in  darkness,  of  which 
the  sedative  efifect  is  well  known  to  nurses  and  govern- 
esses who  have  to  deal  with  pettish  children.  It  retarded 
the  pace  of  the  irritated  Baronet  if  it  did  not  abate  his 
resentment,  and  Mr.  Oldbuck,  better  acquainted  with 
the  locaky  got  up  with  him  as  he  had  got  his  grasp  upon 
the  handle  of  the  drawing-room  door. 

'Stay  a  minute.  Sir  Arthur,'  said  Oldbuck,  opposing 
his  abrupt  entrance;  Mon't  be  quite  so  hasty,  my  good 
old  friend.  I  was  a  little  too  rude  with  you  about  Sir 
Gamelyn.  Why,  he  is  an  old  acquaintance  of  mine,  man, 
and  a  favourite;  he  kept  company  with  Bruce  and  Wal- 
lace, and,  I'll  be  sworn  on  a  black-letter  Bible,  only 
subscribed  the  Ragman  Roll  with  the  legitimate  and 
justifiable  intention  of  circumventing  the  false  Southern. 
'T  was  right  Scottish  craft,  my  good  knight;  hundreds 
did  it.  Come,  come,  forget  and  forgive;  confess  we  have 
given  the  young  fellow  here  a  right  to  think  us  two  testy 
old  fools.' 

'Speak  for  yourself,  Mr.  Jonathan  Oldbuck,'  said 
Sir  Arthur,  with  much  majesty. 

'Awell,  awell!  a  wilful  man  must  have  his  way.' 

With  that  the  door  opened,  and  into  the  drawing- 
room  marched  the  tall  gaunt  form  of  Sir  Arthur,  fol- 
lowed by  Lovel  and  Mr.  Oldbuck,  the  countenances  of 
all  three  a  little  discomposed. 

78 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

*I  have  been  waiting  for  you,  sir/  said  Miss  Wardour, 
'  to  propose  we  should  walk  forward  to  meet  the  carriage, 
as  the  evening  is  so  fine.' 

Sir  Arthur  readily  assented  to  this  proposal,  which 
suited  the  angry  mood  in  which  he  found  himself;  and 
having,  agreeably  to  the  established  custom  in  cases  of 
pet,  refused  the  refreshment  of  tea  and  coffee,  he  tucked 
his  daughter  under  his  arm,  and,  after  taking  a  ceremon- 
ious leave  of  the  ladies  and  a  very  dry  one  of  Oldbuck, 
off  he  marched. 

'I  think  Sir  Arthur  has  got  the  black  dog  on  his  back 
again,'  said  Miss  Oldbuck. 

'Black  dog!  black  devil!  he's  more  absurd  than 
womankind.  What  say  you,  Lovel?  Why,  the  lad's 
gone  too.' 

'He  took  his  leave,  uncle,  while  Miss  Wardour  was 
putting  on  her  things;  but  I  don't  think  you  observed 
him.' 

'  The  devil 's  in  the  people !  This  is  all  one  gets  by  fuss- 
ing and  bustling  and  putting  one's  self  out  of  one's  way 
in  order  to  give  dinners,  besides  all  the  charges  they  are 
put  to.  0  Seged,  Emperor  of  Ethiopia!'  said  he,  taking 
up  a  cup  of  tea  in  the  one  hand  and  a  volume  of  the 
"Rambler"  in  the  other  —  for  it  was  his  regular  custom 
to  read  while  he  was  eating  or  drinking  in  presence  of  his 
sister,  being  a  practice  which  served  at  once  to  evince  his 
contempt  for  the  society  of  womankind  and  his  resolution 
to  lose  no  moment  of  instruction —  '0  Seged,  Emperor 
of  Ethiopia!  well  hast  thou  spoken — "No  man  should 
presume  to  say.  This  shall  be  a  day  of  happiness."' 

Oldbuck  proceeded  in  his  studies  for  the  best  part  of 
an  hour,  uninterrupted  by  the  ladies,  who  each  in  pro- 

79 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


found  silence  pursued  some  female  employment.  At 
length  a  light  and  modest  tap  was  heard  at  the  parlour 
door.  *  Is  that  you,  Caxon?  Come  in,  come  in,  man.' 

The  old  man  opened  the  door,  and,  thrusting  in  his 
meagre  face,  thatched  with  thin  grey  locks,  and  one 
sleeve  of  his  white  coat,  said  in  a  subdued  and  mysteri- 
ous tone  of  voice,  'I  was  wanting  to  speak  to  you,  sir.' 

'  Come  in  then,  you  old  fool,  and  say  what  you  have 
got  to  say.' 

'I'll  maybe  frighten  the  ladies,'  said  the  ex-friseur. 

'Frighten!'  answered  the  Antiquary,  'what  do  you 
mean?  never  mind  the  ladies.  Have  you  seen  another 
ghaist  at  the  Humlock  Knowe?' 

'Na,  sir;  it's  no  a  ghaist  this  turn,'  replied  Caxon; 
'but  I'm  no  easy  in  my  mind.' 

'Did  you  ever  hear  of  anybody  that  was?'  answered 
Oldbuck;  'what  reason  has  an  old  battered  powder-puflf 
like  you  to  be  easy  in  your  mind,  more  than  all  the  rest 
of  the  world  besides? ' 

'It's  no  for  mysell,  sir;  but  it  threatens  an  awfu' 
night;  and  Sir  Arthur  and  Miss  Wardour,  poor  thing  — ' 

'Why,  man,  they  must  have  met  the  carriage  at  the 
head  of  the  loaning  or  thereabouts;  they  must  be  home 
long  ago.' 

'Na,  sir;  they  didna  gang  the  road  by  the  turnpike  to 
meet  the  carriage,  they  gaed  by  the  sands.' 

The  word  operated  like  electricity  on  Oldbuck.  'The 
sands ! '  he  exclaimed ;  '  impossible ! ' 

'Ou,  sir,  that's  what  I  said  to  the  gardener;  but  he 
says  he  saw  them  turn  down  by  the  Mussel  Craig.  "In 
troth,"  says  I  to  him,  "an  that  be  the  case,  Davie,  I  am 
misdoubting — "' 

.80 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

'An  almanack!  an  almanack!'  said  Oldbuck,  starting 
up  in  great  alarm,  'not  that  bauble!'  flinging  away  a 
little  pocket  almanack  which  his  niece  offered  him. 
'Great  God!  my  poor  dear  Miss  Isabella!  Fetch  me 
instantly  the  Fairport  Almanack.'  It  was  brought,  con- 
sulted, and  added  greatly  to  his  agitation.  'I'll  go  my- 
self; call  the  gardener  and  ploughman,  bid  them  bring 
ropes  and  ladders,  bid  them  raise  more  help  as  they  come 
along;  keep  the  top  of  the  cliffs,  and  halloo  down  to 
them;  I'll  go  myself.' 

*What  is  the  matter?'  inquired  Miss  Oldbuck  and 
Miss  MTntyre. 

'  The  tide !  the  tide ! '  answered  the  alarmed  Antiquary. 

'Had  not  Jenny  better  —  but  no,  I'll  run  myself,' 
said  the  younger  lady,  partaking  in  all  her  uncle^s 
terrors  —  'I'll  run  myself  to  Saunders  Mucklebackit 
and  make  him  get  out  his  boat.' 

'Thank  you,  my  dear,  that's  the  wisest  word  that  has 
been  spoken  yet;  run!  run!  To  go  by  the  sands!'  seizing 
his  hat  and  cane;  'was  there  ever  such  madness  heard 
of?' 


8 


CHAPTER  VII 


Pleased  awhile  to  view 
The  watery  waste,  the  prospect  wild  and  new; 
The  now  receding  waters  gave  them  space. 
On  either  side,  the  growing  shores  to  trace; 
And  then,  returning,  they  contract  the  scene. 
Till  small  and  smaller  grows  the  walk  between. 

Crabbe. 

The  information  of  Davie  Dibble,  which  had  spread 
such  general  alarm  at  Monkbarns,  proved  to  be  strictly 
correct.  Sir  Arthur  and  his  daughter  had  set  out,  accord- 
ing to  their  first  proposal,  to  return  to  Knockwinnock  by 
the  turnpike  road;  but,  when  they  reached  the  head  of 
the  loaning,  as  it  was  called,  or  great  lane,  which  on  one 
side  made  a  sort  of  avenue  to  the  house  of  Monkbarns, 
they  discerned  a  little  way  before  them  Lovel,  who 
seemed  to  linger  on  the  way  as  if  to  give  him  an  oppor- 
tunity to  join  them.  Miss  Wardour  immediately  pro- 
posed to  her  father  that  they  should  take  another  direc- 
tion; and,  as  the  weather  was  fine,  walk  home  by  the 
sands,  which,  stretching  below  a  picturesque  ridge  of 
rocks,  afforded  at  almost  all  times  a  pleasanter  passage 
between  Knockwinnock  and  Monkbarns  than  the  high- 
road. 

Sir  Arthur  acquiesced  willingly.  *It  would  be  un- 
pleasant,' he  said,  ^to  be  joined  by  that  young  fellow, 
whom  Mr.  Oldbuck  had  taken  the  freedom  to  introduce 
them  to.'  And  his  old-fashioned  politeness  had  none  of 
the  ease  of  the  present  day,  which  permits  you,  if  you 
have  a  mind,  to  ^cut'  the  person  you  have  associated 
with  for  a  week  the  instant  you  feel  or  suppose  yourself 

82 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

in  a  situation  which  makes  it  disagreeable  to  own  him. 
Sir  Arthur  only  stipulated  that  a  little  ragged  boy,  for 
the  guerdon  of  one  penny  sterling,  should  run  to  meet 
his  coachman  and  turn  his  equipage  back  to  Knock- 
winnock. 

When  this  was  arranged,  and  the  emissary  despatched, 
the  knight  and  his  daughter  left  the  highroad,  and,  fol- 
lowing a  wandering  path  among  sandy  hillocks,  partly 
grown  over  with  furze  and  the  long  grass  called  bent, 
soon  attained  the  side  of  the  ocean.  The  tide  was  by  no 
means  so  far  out  as  they  had  computed;  but  this  gave 
them  no  alarm:  there  were  seldom  ten  days  in  the  year 
when  it  approached  so  near  the  cliffs  as  not  to  leave  a 
dry  passage.  But,  nevertheless,  at  periods  of  spring- tide, 
or  even  when  the  ordinary  flood  was  accelerated  by  high 
winds,  this  road  was  altogether  covered  by  the  sea;  and 
tradition  had  recorded  several  fatal  accidents  which  had 
happened  on  such  occasions.  Still,  such  dangers  were 
considered  as  remote  and  improbable;  and  rather  served, 
with  other  legends,  to  amuse  the  hamlet  fireside  than  to 
prevent  any  one  from  going  between  Knockwinnock  and 
Monkbarns  by  the  sands. 

As  Sir  Arthur  and  Miss  Wardour  paced  along,  enjoy- 
ing the  pleasant  footing  afforded  by  the  cool  moist  hard 
sand,  Miss  Wardour  could  not  help  observing  that  the 
last  tide  had  risen  considerably  above  the  usual  water- 
mark. Sir  Arthur  made  the  same  observation,  but  with- 
out its  occurring  to  either  of  them  to  be  alarmed  at  the 
circumstance.  The  sun  was  now  resting  his  huge  disk 
upon  the  edge  of  the  level  ocean,  and  gilded  the  accumu- 
lation of  towering  clouds  through  which  he  had  travelled 
the  livelong  day,  and  which  now  assembled  on  all  sides, 

.  83 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


like  misfortunes  and  disasters  around  a  sinking  empire 
and  falling  monarch.  Still,  however,  his  dying  splendour 
gave  a  sombre  magnificence  to  the  massive  congregation 
of  vapours,  forming  out  of  their  unsubstantial  gloom  the 
show  of  pyramids  and  towers,  some  touched  with  gold, 
some  with  purple,  some  with  a  hue  of  deep  and  dark  red. 
The  distant  sea,  stretched  beneath  this  varied  and  gor- 
geous canopy,  lay  almost  portentously  still,  reflecting 
back  the  dazzling  and  level  beams  of  the  descending 
luminary,  and  the  splendid  colouring  of  the  clouds 
amidst  which  he  was  setting.  Nearer  to  the  beach,  the 
(  0  tide  rippled  onward  in  waves  of  sparkling  silver,  that 
imperceptibly,  yet  rapidly,  gained  upon  the  sand. 
With  a  mind  employed  in  admiration  of  the  romantic 
^  ^  scene,  or  perhaps  on  some  more  agitating  topic.  Miss 
Wardour  advanced  in  silence  by  her  father's  side,  whose 
recently  offended  dignity  did  not  stoop  to  open  any  con- 
versation. Following  the  windings  of  the  beach,  they 
passed  one  projecting  point  or  headland  of  rock  after 
another,  and  now  found  themselves  under  a  huge  and 
continued  extent  of  the  precipices  by  which  that  iron- 
bound  coast  is  in  most  places  defended.  Long  projecting 
reefs  of  rock,  extending  under  water,  and  only  evincing 
their  existence  by  here  and  there  a  peak  entirely  bare, 
or  by  the  breakers  which  foamed  over  those  that  were 
partially  covered,  rendered  Knockwinnock  Bay  dreaded 
by  pilots  and  shipmasters.  The  crags  which  rose  be- 
tween the  beach  and  the  mainland,  to  the  height  of  two 
or  three  hundred  feet,  afforded  in  their  crevices  shelter 
for  unnumbered  sea-fowl,  in  situations  seemingly  se- 
cured by  their  dizzy  height  from  the  rapacity  of  man. 
Many  of  these  wild  tribes,  with  the  instinct  which  sends 

84 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

them  to  seek  the  land  before  a  storm  arises,  were  now 
winging  towards  their  nests  with  the  shrill  and  dissonant 
clang  which  announces  disquietude  and  fear.  The  disk 
of  the  sun  became  almost  totally  obscured  ere  he  had 
altogether  sunk  below  the  horizon,  and  an  early  and 
lurid  shade  of  darkness  blotted  the  serene  twihght  of  a 
summer  evening.  The  wind  began  next  to  arise;  but  its 
wild  and  moaning  sound  was  heard  for  some  time,  and 
its  effects  became  visible  on  the  bosom  of  the  sea,  before 
the  gale  was  felt  on  shore.  The  mass  of  waters,  now  dark 
and  threatening,  began  to  hft  itself  in  larger  ridges  and 
sink  in  deeper  furrows,  forming  waves  that  rose  high  in 
foam  upon  the  breakers,  or  burst  upon  the  beach  with  a 
sound  resembling  distant  thunder. 

Appalled  by  this  sudden  change  of  weather,  Miss 
Wardour  drew  close  to  her  father  and  held  his  arm  fast. 

wish,'  at  length  she  said,  but  almost  in  a  whisper,  as  if 
ashamed  to  express  her  increasing  apprehensions  —  *I 
wish  we  had  kept  the  road  we  intended,  or  waited  at 
Monkbarns  for  the  carriage.' 

Sir  Arthur  looked  round,  but  did  not  see,  or  would  not 
acknowledge,  any  signs  of  an  immediate  storm.  They 
would  reach  Knockwinnock,  he  said,  long  before  the 
tempest  began.  But  the  speed  with  which  he  walked, 
and  with  which  Isabella  could  hardly  keep  pace,  indi- 
cated a  feeling  that  some  exertion  was  necessary  to 
accomplish  his  consolatory  prediction. 

They  were  now  near  the  centre  of  a  deep  but  narrow 
bay  or  recess,  formed  by  two  projecting  capes  of  high 
and  inaccessible  rock,  which  shot  out  into  the  sea  like 
the  horns  of  a  crescent;  and  neither  durst  communicate 
the  apprehension  which  each  began  to  entertain,  that, 

.  8s 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


from  the  unusually  rapid  advance  of  the  tide,  they  might 
be  deprived  of  the  power  of  proceeding  by  doubling  the 
promontory  which  lay  before  them,  or  of  retreating  by 
the  road  which  brought  them  thither. 

As  they  thus  pressed  forward,  longing  doubtless  to 
exchange  the  easy  curving  line  which  the  sinuosities  of 
the  bay  compelled  them  to  adopt  for  a  straighter  and 
more  expeditious  path,  though  less  conformable  to  the 
line  of  beauty,  Sir  Arthur  observed  a  human  figure  on 
the  beach  advancing  to  meet  them.  *  Thank  God,'  he 
exclaimed,  Ve  shall  get  round  Halket  Head!  that 
person  must  have  passed  it';  thus  giving  vent  to  the 
feeling  of  hope,  though  he  had  suppressed  that  of 
apprehension. 

*  Thank  God  indeed!'  echoed  his  daughter,  half  audi- 
bly, half  internally,  as  expressing  the  gratitude  which 
she  strongly  felt. 

The  figure  which  advanced  to  meet  them  made  many 
signs,  which  the  haze  of  the  atmosphere,  now  disturbed 
by  wind  and  by  a  drizzling  rain,  prevented  them  from 
seeing  or  comprehending  distinctly.  Some  time  before 
they  met,  Sir  Arthur  could  recognise  the  old  blue- 
gowned  beggar,  Edie  Ochiltree.  It  is  said  that  even  the 
brute  creation  lay  aside  their  animosities  and  antipathies 
when  pressed  by  an  instant  and  common  danger.  The 
beach  under  Halket  Head,  rapidly  diminishing  in  extent 
by  the  encroachments  of  a  spring-tide  and  a  north-west 
wind,  was  in  like  manner  a  neutral  field  where  even  a 
justice  of  peace  and  a  strolling  mendicant  might  meet 
upon  terms  of  mutual  forbearance. 

*  Turn  back!  turnback!'  exclaimed  the  vagrant;  ^why 
did  ye  not  turn  when  I  waved  to  you?' 

86 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


'We  thought/  replied  Sir  Arthur,  in  great  agitation 
—  'we  thought  we  could  get  round  Halket  Head.' 

'Halket  Head!  The  tide  will  be  running  on  Halket 
Head  by  this  time  like  the  Fall  of  Fyers!  It  was  a'  I 
could  do  to  get  round  it  twenty  minutes  since;  it  was 
coming  in  three  feet  abreast.  We  will  maybe  get  back 
by  Ballyburgh  Ness  Point  yet.  The  Lord  help  us,  it's 
our  only  chance.  We  can  but  try/ 

'My  God!  my  child!'  'My  father,  my  dear  father!' 
exclaimed  the  parent  and  daughter,  as,  fear  lending 
them  strength  and  speed,  they  turned  to  retrace  their 
steps,  and  endeavoured  to  double  the  point,  the  pro- 
jection of  which  formed  the  southern  extremity  of  the 
bay. 

'I  heard  ye  were  here  frae  the  bit  callant  ye  sent  to 
meet  your  carriage,'  said  the  beggar,  as  he  trudged 
stoutly  on  a  step  or  two  behind  Miss  Wardour,  'and  I 
couldna  bide  to  think  o'  the  dainty  young  leddy's  peril, 
that  has  aye  been  kind  to  ilka  forlorn  heart  that  cam 
near  her.  Sae  I  lookit  at  the  lift  and  the  rin  o'  the  tide, 
till  I  settled  it  that,  if  I  could  get  down  time  eneugh  to 
gie  you  warning,  we  wad  do  weel  yet.  But  I  doubt,  I 
doubt,  I  have  been  beguiled!  for  what  mortal  ee  ever 
saw  sic  a  race  as  the  tide  is  rinning  e'en  now?  See,  yon- 
der's  the  Ratton's  Skerry;  he  aye  held  his  neb  abune  the 
water  in  my  day,  but  he's  aneath  it  now.' 

Sir  Arthur  cast  a  look  in  the  direction  in  which  the  old 
man  pointed.  A  huge  rock,  which  in  general,  even  in 
spring-tides,  displayed  a  hulk  hke  the  keel  of  a  large 
vessel,  was  now  quite  under  water,  and  its  place  only 
indicated  by  the  boiling  and  breaking  of  the  eddying 
waves  which  encountered  its  submarine  resistance. 


87 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


^  Mak  haste,  mak  haste,  my  bonny  leddy,'  continued 
the  old  man  —  'mak  haste,  and  we  may  do  yet!  Take 
haud  o'  my  arm;  an  auld  and  frail  arm  it's  now,  but  it's 
been  in  as  sair  stress  as  this  is  yet.  Take  haud  o'  my 
arm,  my  winsome  leddy!  D' ye  see  yon  wee  black  speck 
amang  the  wallowing  waves  yonder?  This  morning  it 
was  as  high  as  the  mast  o'  a  brig;  it's  sma'  eneugh  now, 
but,  while  I  see  as  muckle  black  about  it  as  the  crown  o' 
my  hat,  I  winna  believe  but  we  '11  get  round  the  Bally- 
burgh  Ness,  for  a'  that's  come  and  gane  yet.' 

Isabella,  in  silence,  accepted  from  the  old  man  the 
assistance  which  Sir  Arthur  was  less  able  to  afiford  her. 
The  waves  had  now  encroached  so  much  upon  the 
beach  that  the  firm  and  smooth  footing  which  they  had 
hitherto  had  on  the  sand  must  be  exchanged  for  a 
rougher  path  close  to  the  foot  of  the  precipice,  and  in 
some  places  even  raised  upon  its  lower  ledges.  It  would 
have  been  utterly  impossible  for  Sir  Arthur  Wardour  or 
his  daughter  to  have  found  their  way  along  these  shelves 
without  the  guidance  and  encouragement  of  the  beggar, 
who  had  been  there  before  in  high  tides,  though  never, 
he  acknowledged,  'in  sae  awsome  a  night  as  this.' 

It  was  indeed  a  dreadful  evening.  The  howling  of  the 
storm  mingled  with  the  shrieks  of  the  sea-fowl,  and 
sounded  like  the  dirge  of  the  three  devoted  beings  who, 
pent  between  two  of  the  most  magnificent  yet  most 
dreadful  objects  of  nature  —  a  raging  tide  and  an  insur- 
mountable precipice  —  toiled  along  their  painful  and 
dangerous  path,  often  lashed  by  the  spray  of  some  giant 
billow  which  threw  itself  higher  on  the  beach  than  those 
that  had  preceded  it.  Each  minute  did  their  enemy 
gain  ground  perceptibly  upon  them !  Still,  however,  loth 

88 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

to  relinquish  the  last  hopes  of  life,  they  bent  their  eyes 
on  the  black  rock  pointed  out  by  Ochiltree.  It  was  yet 
distinctly  visible  among  the  breakers,  and  continued  to 
be  so,  until  they  came  to  a  turn  in  their  precarious  path 
where  an  intervening  projection  of  rock  hid  it  from  their 
sight.  Deprived  of  the  view  of  the  beacon  on  which  they 
had  relied,  they  now  experienced  the  double  agony  of 
terror  and  suspense.  They  struggled  forward,  however; 
but,  when  they  arrived  at  the  point  from  which  they 
ought  to  have  seen  the  crag,  it  was  no  longer  visible. 
The  signal  of  safety  was  lost  among  a  thousand  white 
breakers,  which,  dashing  upon  the  point  of  the  promon- 
tory, rose  in  prodigious  sheets  of  snowy  foam  as  high  as 
the  mast  of  a  first-rate  man-of-war  against  the  dark 
brow  of  the  precipice. 

The  countenance  of  the  old  man  fell.  Isabella  gave  a 
faint  shriek,  and  ^God  have  mercy  upon  us!'  which  her 
guide  solemnly  uttered,  was  piteously  echoed  by  Sir 
Arthur  —  ^  My  child !  my  child !  to  die  such  a  death ! ' 

^My  father!  my  dear  father!'  his  daughter  exclaimed, 
clinging  to  him;  'and  you  too,  who  have  lost  your  own 
life  in  endeavouring  to  save  ours ! ' 

'That's  not  worth  the  counting,'  said  the  old  man.  'I 
hae  lived  to  be  weary  o'  life;  and  here  or  yonder  —  at 
the  back  o'  a  dyke,  in  a  wreath  o'  snaw,  or  in  the  wame  o' 
a  wave,  what  signifies  how  the  auld  gaberlunzie  dies?' 

'  Good  man,'  said  Sir  Arthur,  'can  you  think  of  no- 
thing? —  of  no  help?  I'll  make  you  rich;  I'll  give  you 
a  farm;  I'll—' 

'Our  riches  will  be  soon  equal,'  said  the  beggar,  look- 
ing out  upon  the  strife  of  the  waters;  'they  are  sae  al- 
ready, for  I  hae  nae  land,  and  you  would  give  your  fair 

89 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


bounds  and  barony  for  a  square  yard  of  rock  that  would 
be  dry  for  twal  hours.' 

While  they  exchanged  these  words  they  paused  upon 
the  highest  ledge  of  rock  to  which  they  could  attain;  for 
it  seemed  that  any  further  attempt  to  move  forward 
could  only  serve  to  anticipate  their  fate.  Here,  then, 
they  were  to  await  the  sure  though  slow  progress  of  the 
raging  element,  something  in  the  situation  of  the  martyrs 
of  the  early  church,  who,  exposed  by  heathen  tyrants 
to  be  slain  by  wild  beasts,  were  compelled  for  a  time  to 
witness  the  impatience  and  rage  by  which  the  animals 
were  agitated,  while  awaiting  the  signal  for  undoing 
their  grates  and  letting  them  loose  upon  the  victims. 

Yet  even  this  fearful  pause  gave  Isabella  time  to  col- 
lect the  powers  of  a  mind  naturally  strong  and  courage- 
ous, and  which  ralHed  itself  at  this  terrible  juncture. 
^  Must  we  yield  Ufe,'  she  said,  'without  a  struggle?  Is 
there  no  path,  however  dreadful,  by  which  we  could 
climb  the  crag,  or  at  least  attain  some  height  above  the 
tide,  where  we  could  remain  till  morning,  or  till  help 
comes?  They  must  be  aware  of  our  situation,  and  will 
raise  the  country  to  relieve  us.' 

Sir  Arthur,  who  heard  but  scarcely  comprehended  his 
daughter's  question,  turned,  nevertheless,  instinctively 
and  eagerly  to  the  old  man,  as  if  their  lives  were  in  his 
gift.  Ochiltree  paused.  'I  was  a  bauld  craigsman,'  he 
said,  'ance  in  my  life,  and  mony  a  kitty  wake's  and 
lungie's  nest  hae  I  harried  up  amang  thae  very  black 
rocks;  but  it's  lang,  lang  syne,  and  nae  mortal  could 
speel  them  without  a  rope;  and  if  I  had  ane,  my  ee-sight 
and  my  footstep  and  my  hand-grip  hae  a'  failed  mony  a 
day  sinsyne;  and  then  how  could  I  save  you  ?  But  there 

90 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

was  a  path  here  ance,  though  maybe,  if  we  could  see  it, 
ye  would  rather  bide  where  we  are.  His  name  be 
praised!^  he  ejaculated  suddenly,  'there's  ane  coming 
down  the  crag  e'en  now!'  Then,  exalting  his  voice,  he 
hilloa'd  out  to  the  daring  adventurer  such  instructions 
as  his  former  practice,  and  the  remembrance  of  local 
circumstances,  suddenly  forced  upon  his  mind:  'Ye 're 
right,  ye 're  right!  that  gate,  that  gate!  Fasten  the  rope 
weel  round  Crummie's  Horn,  that's  the  muckle  black 
stane;  cast  twa  plies  round  it,  that's  it.  Now,  weize 
yoursell  a  wee  easelward,  a  wee  mair  yet  to  that  ither 
stane  —  we  ca 'd  it  the  Cat's  Lug.  There  used  to  be  the 
root  o'  an  aik-tree  there.  That  will  do !  canny  now,  lad, 
canny  now;  tak  tent  and  tak  time,  Lord  bless  ye,  tak 
time.  Vera  weel!  Now  ye  maun  get  to  Bessy's  Apron, 
that's  the  muckle  braid  flat  blue  stane;  and  then  I 
think,  wi'  your  help  and  the  tow  thegither,  I'll  win  at 
ye,  and  then  we'll  be  able  to  get  up  the  young  leddy  and 
Sir  Arthur.' 

The  adventurer,  following  the  directions  of  old  Edie, 
flung  him  down  the  end  of  the  rope,  which  he  secured 
around  Miss  Wardour,  wrapping  her  previously  in  his 
own  blue  gown,  to  preserve  her  as  much  as  possible  from 
injury.  Then,  availing  himself  of  the  rope,  which  was 
made  fast  at  the  other  end,  he  began  to  ascend  the  face 
of  the  crag  —  a  most  precarious  and  dizzy  undertaking, 
which,  however,  after  one  or  two  perilous  escapes, 
placed  him  safe  on  the  broad  flat  stone  beside  our  friend 
Lovel.  Their  joint  strength  was  able  to  raise  Isabella  to 
the  place  of  safety  which  they  had  attained.  Lovel  then 
descended  in  order  to  assist  Sir  Arthur,  around  whom  he 
adjusted  the  rope;  and  again  mounting  to  their  place  of 

91 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


refuge,  with  the  assistance  of  old  Ochiltree,  and  such  aid 
as  Sir  Arthur  himself  could  afford,  he  raised  himself 
beyond  the  reach  of  the  billows. 

The  sense  of  reprieve  from  approaching  and  appar- 
ently inevitable  death  had  its  usual  effect.  The  father 
and  daughter  threw  themselves  into  each  other's  arms, 
kissed  and  wept  for  joy,  although  their  escape  was  con- 
nected with  the  prospect  of  passing  a  tempestuous  night 
upon  a  precipitous  ledge  of  rock,  which  scarce  afforded 
footing  for  the  four  shivering  beings  who  now,  like  the 
sea-fowl  around  them,  clung  there  in  hopes  of  some 
shelter  from  the  devouring  element  which  raged  beneath. 
The  spray  of  the  billows,  which  attained  in  fearful  suc- 
cession the  foot  of  the  precipice,  overflowing  the  beach 
^m-Ci^  pn  which  they  so  lately  stood,  flew  as  high  as  their  place 
^^pf  temporary  refuge ;  and  the  stunning  sound  with  which 
they  dashed  against  the  rocks  beneath  seemed  as  if  they 
still  demanded  the  fugitives  in  accents  of  thunder  as 
their  destined  prey.  It  was  a  summer  night  doubtless; 
yet  the  probability  was  slender  that  a  frame  so  delicate 
as  that  of  Miss  Wardour  should  survive  till  morning  the 
drenching  of  the  spray;  and  the  dashing  of  the  rain, 
which  now  burst  in  full  violence,  accompanied  with  deep 
and  heavy  gusts  of  wind,  added  to  the  constrained  and 
perilous  circumstances  of  their  situation. 

'The  lassie  —  the  puir  sweet  lassie,'  said  the  old  man; 
'mony  such  a  night  have  I  weathered  at  hame  and 
abroad;  but,  God  guide  us!  how  can  she  ever  win 
through  it!' 

His  apprehension  was  communicated  in  smothered 
accents  to  Lovel;  for,  with  the  sort  of  freemasonry  by 
which  bold  and  ready  spirits  correspond  in  moments  of 
92 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


danger,  and  become  almost  instinctively  known  to  each 
other,  they  had  established  a  mutual  confidence.  ^I'U 
climb  up  the  cliff  again,'  said  Lovel,  there's  daylight 
enough  left  to  see  my  footing  —  I'll  climb  up  and  call 
for  more  assistance.' 

^Do  so,  do  so,  for  Heaven's  sake!'  said  Sir  Arthur, 
eagerly. 

*  Are  ye  mad? '  said  the  mendicant.  '  Francie  o'  Fowls- 
heugh,  and  he  was  the  best  craigsman  that  ever  speel'd 
heugh  (mair  by  token,  he  brake  his  neck  upon  the  Dun- 
buy  of  Slaines),  wadna  hae  ventured  upon  the  Halket 
Head  craigs  after  sundown.  It's  God's  grace,  and  a 
great  wonder  besides,  that  ye  are  not  in  the  middle  o' 
that  roaring  sea  wi'  what  ye  hae  done  already.  I  didna 
think  there  was  the  man  left  alive  would  hae  come  down 
the  craigs  as  ye  did.  I  question  an  I  could  hae  done  it 
mysell,  at  this  hour  and  in  this  weather,  in  the  youngest 
and  yauldest  of  my  strength.  But  to  venture  up  again 
—  it's  a  mere  and  a  clear  tempting  o'  Providence.' 

*I  have  no  fear,'  answered  Lovel,  ^I  marked  all  the 
stations  perfectly  as  I  came  down,  and  there  is  still  light 
enough  left  to  see  them  quite  well.  I  am  sure  I  can  do  it 
with  perfect  safety.  Stay  here,  my  good  friend,  by  Sir 
Arthur  and  the  young  lady.' 

'Deil  be  in  my  feet  then,'  answered  the  bedesman 
sturdily;  ^if  ye  gang,  I'll  gang  too;  for  between  the  twa 
o'  us  we  '11  hae  mair  than  wark  eneugh  to  get  to  the  tap 
o'  the  heugh.' 

'No,  no;  stay  you  here  and  attend  to  Miss  Wardour; 
you  see  Sir  Arthur  is  quite  exhausted.' 

'Stay  yoursell  then  and  I'll  gae,'  said  the  old  man; 
'let  death  spare  the  green  corn  and  take  the  ripe.' 


93 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


' Stay  both  of  you,  I  charge  you/  said  Isabella,  faintly; 
*I  am  well,  and  can  spend  the  night  very  well  here;  I 
feel  quite  refreshed.'  So  saying,  her  voice  failed  her;  she 
sunk  down,  and  would  have  fallen  from  the  crag  had 
she  not  been  supported  by  Lovel  and  Ochiltree,  who 
placed  her  in  a  posture  half  sitting,  half  reclining,  beside 
her  father,  who,  exhausted  by  fatigue  of  body  and  mind 
so  extreme  and  unusual,  had  already  sat  down  on  a 
stone  in  a  sort  of  stupor. 

*It  is  impossible  to  leave  them,'  said  Lovel.  'What  is 
to  be  done?  Hark!  hark!  Did  I  not  hear  a  halloo?' 

'The  skreigh  of  a  Tammie  Norie,'  answered  Ochiltree; 
*I  ken  the  skirl  weel.' 

'No,  by  Heaven,'  repHed  Lovel,  'it  was  a  human 
voice.' 

A  distant  hail  was  repeated,  the  sound  plainly  dis- 
tinguishable among  the  various  elemental  noises  and 
the  clang  of  the  seamews  by  which  they  were  sur- 
rounded. The  mendicant  and  Lovel  exerted  their  voices 
in  a  loud  halloo,  the  former  waving  Miss  Wardour's 
handkerchief  on  the  end  of  his  staff  to  make  them  con- 
spicuous from  above.  Though  the  shouts  were  repeated, 
it  was  some  time  before  they  were  in  exact  response  to 
their  own,  leaving  the  unfortunate  sufferers  uncertain 
whether,  in  the  darkening  twihght  and  increasing  storm, 
they  had  made  the  persons  who  apparently  were  travers- 
ing the  verge  of  the  precipice  to  bring  them  assistance 
sensible  of  the  place  in  which  they  had  found  refuge.  At 
length  their  halloo  was  regularly  and  distinctly  an- 
swered, and  their  courage  confirmed  by  the  assurance 
that  they  were  within  hearing,  if  not  within  reach,  of 
friendly  assistance. 


CHAPTER  VIII 


There  is  a  cliff,  whose  high  and  bending  head " 
Looks  fearfully  in  the  confined  deep  ; 
Bring  me  but  to  the  very  brim  of  it, 
And  I  '11  repair  the  misery  thou  dost  bear. 

King  Lear, 

TiiE  shout  of  human  voices  from  above  was  soon  aug- 
mented, and  the  gleam  of  torches  mingled  with  those 
lights  of  evening  which  still  remained  amidst  the  dark- 
ness of  the  storm.  Some  attempt  was  made  to  hold  com- 
munication between  the  assistants  above  and  the  suffer- 
ers beneath,  who  were  still  clinging  to  their  precarious 
place  of  safety;  but  the  howling  of  the  tempest  limited 
their  intercourse  to  cries  as  inarticulate  as  those  of  the 
winged  denizens  of  the  crag,  which  shrieked  in  chorus, 
alarmed  by  the  reiterated  sound  of  human  voices  where 
they  had  seldom  been  heard. 

On  the  verge  of  the  precipice  an  anxious  group  had 
now  assembled.  Oldbuck  was  the  foremost  and  most 
earnest,  pressing  forward  with  unwonted  desperation  to 
the  very  brink  of  the  crag,  and  extending  his  head  (his 
hat  and  wig  secured  by  a  handkerchief  under  his  chin) 
over  the  dizzy  height,  with  an  air  of  determination  which 
made  his  more  timorous  assistants  tremble. 

'Hand  a  care,  baud  a  care,  Monkbarns!'  cried  Caxon, 
clinging  to  the  skirts  of  his  patron,  and  withholding  him 
from  danger  as  far  as  his  strength  permitted.  *  God's 
sake,  baud  a  care !  Sir  Arthur 's  drowned  already,  and  an 
ye  fa'  over  the  cleugh  too,  there  will  be  but  ae  wig  left  in 
the  parish,  and  that's  the  minister's.' 

95 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


*Mmd  the  peak  there/  cried  Mucklebackit,  an  old 
fisherman  and  smuggler  —  ^mind  the  peak.  Steenie, 
Steenie  Wilks,  bring  up  the  tackle.  I  'se  warrant  we  '11 
sune  heave  them  on  board,  Monkbarns,  wad  ye  but 
stand  out  o'  the  gate.' 

*I  see  them/  said  Oldbuck  —  see  them  low  down  on 
that  flat  stone.  Hilli-hilloa,  hilli-ho-a!' 

see  them  mysell  weel  eneugh/  said  Mucklebackit; 
'they  are  sitting  down  yonder  Hke  hoodiecraws  in  a  mist; 
but  d'  ye  think  ye  '11  help  them  wi'  skirling  that  gate  like 
an  auld  skart  before  a  flaw  o'  weather?  Steenie,  lad, 
bring  up  the  mast.  Od,  I  'se  hae  them  up  as  we  used  to 
bouse  up  the  kegs  o'  gin  and  brandy  lang  syne.  Get  up 
the  pickaxe,  make  a  step  for  the  mast,  make  the  chair 
fast  with  the  rattlin,  haul  taught  and  belay!' 

The  fishers  had  brought  with  them  the  mast  of  a  boat, 
and  as  half  of  the  country  fellows  about  had  now  ap- 
peared, either  out  of  zeal  or  curiosity,  it  was  soon  sunk 
in  the  ground  and  sufficiently  secured.  A  yard  across  the 
upright  mast,  and  a  rope  stretched  along  it,  and  reeved 
through  a  block  at  each  end,  formed  an  extempore  crane, 
which  afforded  the  means  of  lowering  an  arm-chair,  well 
secured  and  fastened,  down  to  the  flat  shelf  on  which  the 
sufferers  had  roosted.  Their  joy  at  hearing  the  prepara- 
tions going  on  for  their  deliverance  was  considerably 
qualified  when  they  beheld  the  precarious  vehicle  by 
means  of  which  they  were  to  be  conveyed  to  upper  air. 
It  swung  about  a  yard  free  of  the  spot  which  they  oc- 
cupied, obeying  each  impulse  of  the  tempest,  the  empty 
air  all  around  it,  and  depending  upon  the  security  of  a 
rope  which  in  the  increasing  darkness  had  dwindled  to 
an  almost  imperceptible  thread.  Besides  the  hazard  of 

96 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

committing  a  human  being  to  the  vacant  atmosphere  in 
such  a  slight  means  of  conveyance,  there  was  the  fear- 
ful danger  of  the  chair  and  its  occupant  being  dashed, 
either  by  the  wind  or  the  vibrations  of  the  cord,  against 
the  rugged  face  of  the  precipice.  But,  to  diminish  the 
risk  as  much  as  possible,  the  experienced  seamen  had  let 
down  with  the  chair  another  line,  which,  being  attached 
to  it  and  held  by  the  persons  beneath,  might  serve  by 
way  of  ^gy,'  as  Mucklebackit  expressed  it,  to  render  its 
descent  in  some  measure  steady  and  regular.  Still,  to 
commit  one's  self  in  such  a  vehicle,  through  a  howling 
tempest  of  wind  and  rain,  with  a  beetHng  precipice 
above  and  a  raging  abyss  below,  required  that  courage 
which  despair  alone  can  inspire.  Yet,  wild  as  the  sounds 
and  sights  of  danger  were,  both  above,  beneath,  and 
around,  and  doubtful  and  dangerous  as  the  mode  of 
escaping  appeared  to  be,  Lovel  and  the  old  mendicant 
agreed,  after  a  moment's  consultation,  and  after  the 
former,  by  a  sudden  strong  pull,  had  at  his  own  immi- 
nent risk  ascertained  the  security  of  the  rope,  that  it 
would  be  best  to  secure  Miss  Wardour  in  the  chair,  and 
trust  to  the  tenderness  and  care  of  those  above  for  her 
being  safely  craned  up  to  the  top  of  the  crag- 

^Let  my  father  go  first,'  exclaimed  Isabella;  *for 
God's  sake,  my  friends,  place  him  first  in  safety.' 

^It  cannot  be.  Miss  Wardour,'  said  Lovel;  'your  life 
must  be  first  secured;  the  rope  which  bears  your  weight 
may  — ' 

'I  will  not  listen  to  a  reason  so  selfish!' 

'But  ye  maun  listen  to  it,  my  bonny  lassie,'  said 
Ochiltree,  'for  a'  our  lives  depend  on  it;  besides,  when  ye 
get  on  the  tap  o'  the  heugh  yonder,  ye  can  gie  them  a 

6  97 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


round  guess  o'  what's  gangmg  on  in  this  Patmos  o'  ours; 
and  Sir  Arthur 's  far  by  that,  as  I  am  thinking.' 

Struck  with  the  truth  of  this  reasoning,  she  ex- 
claimed, 'True,  most  true;  I  am  ready  and  willing  to 
undertake  the  first  risk!  What  shall  I  say  to  our  friends 
above?' 

*  Just  to  look  that  their  tackle  does  not  graze  on  the 
face  o'  the  craig,  and  to  let  the  chair  down,  and  draw  it 
up  hooly  and  fairly;  we  will  halloo  when  we  are  ready.' 

With  the  sedulous  attention  of  a  parent  to  a  child, 
Lovel  bound  Miss  Wardour  with  his  handkerchief,  neck- 
cloth, and  the  mendicant's  leathern  belt  to  the  back  and 
arms  of  the  chair,  ascertaining  accurately  the  security  of 
each  knot,  while  Ochiltree  kept  Sir  Arthur  quiet.  '  What 
are  ye  doing  wi'  my  bairn?  What  are  ye  doing?  She 
shall  not  be  separated  from  me.  Isabel,  stay  with  me,  I 
command  you.' 

'Lordsake,  Sir  Arthur,  haud  your  tongue,  and  be 
thankful  to  God  that  there's  wiser  folk  than  you  to 
manage  this  job,'  cried  the  beggar,  worn  out  by  the  un- 
reasonable exclamations  of  the  poor  Baronet. 

'Farewell,  my  father,'  murmured  Isabella;  'farewell, 
my  —  my  friends';  and,  shutting  her  eyes,  as  Edie's  ex- 
perience recommended,  she  gave  the  signal  to  Lovel,  and 
he  to  those  who  were  above.  She  rose,  while  the  chair  in 
which  she  sate  was  kept  steady  by  the  line  which  Lovel 
managed  beneath.  With  a  beating  heart  he  watched  the 
flutter  of  her  white  dress,  until  the  vehicle  was  on  a 
level  with  the  brink  of  the  precipice. 

'  Canny  now,  lads,  canny  now ! '  exclaimed  old  Muckle- 
backit,  who  acted  as  commodore; '  swerve  the  yard  a  bit. 
Now  —  there !  there  she  sits  safe  on  dry  land ! ' 

98 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


A  loud  shout  announced  the  successful  experiment  to 
her  fellow-sufferers  beneath,  who  replied  with  a  ready 
and  cheerful  halloo.  Monkbarns,  in  his  ecstasy  of  joy, 
stripped  his  great-coat  to  wrap  up  the  young  lady,  and 
would  have  pulled  off  his  coat  and  waistcoat  for  the  same 
purpose,  had  he  not  been  withheld  by  the  cautious 
Caxon.  ^Haud  a  care  o'  us,  your  honour  will  be  killed 
wi'  the  hoast;  ye '11  no  get  out  o'  your  night-cowl  this 
fortnight;  and  that  will  suit  us  unco  ill.  Na,  na,  there's 
the  chariot  down  by,  let  twa  o'  the  folk  carry  the  young 
leddy  there.' 

'You're  right,'  said  the  Antiquary,  readjusting  the 
sleeves  and  collar  of  his  coat  —  'you're  right,  Caxon; 
this  is  a  naughty  night  to  swim  in.  Miss  Wardour,  let 
me  convey  you  to  the  chariot.' 

'Not  for  worlds,  till  I  see  my  father  safe.' 

In  a  few  distinct  words,  evincing  how  much  her  reso- 
lution had  surmounted  even  the  mortal  fear  of  so  agi- 
tating a  hazard,  she  explained  the  nature  of  the  situation 
beneath,  and  the  wishes  of  Lovel  and  Ochiltree. 

'Right,  right,  that's  right  too;  I  should  like  to  see  the 
son  of  Sir  Gamelyn  de  Guardover  on  dry  land  myself.  I 
have  a  notion  he  would  sign  the  abjuration  oath,  and  the 
Ragman  Roll  to  boot,  and  acknowledge  Queen  Mary  to 
be  nothing  better  than  she  should  be,  to  get  alongside 
my  bottle  of  old  port  that  he  ran  away  from,  and  left 
scarce  begun.  But  he's  safe  now,  and  here  a'  comes  — 
(for  the  chair  was  again  lowered,  and  Sir  Arthur  made 
fast  in  it,  without  much  consciousness  on  his  own  part) 
—  here  a'  comes;  bowse  away,  my  boys,  canny  wi'  him. 
A  pedigree  of  a  hundred  links  is  hanging  on  a  tenpenny 
tow;  the  whole  barony  of  Knockwinnock  depends  on 


99 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


three  plies  of  hemp ;  respice  finem,  respice  funem — look  to 
your  end,  look  to  a  rope's  end.  Welcome,  welcome,  my 
good  old  friend,  to  firm  land,  though  I  cannot  say  to 
warm  land  or  to  dry  land.  A  cord  for  ever  against  fifty 
fathom  of  water,  though  not  in  the  sense  of  the  base 
proverb;  a  fico  for  the  phrase,  better  sus.  per  funem  than 
sus.  per  coll.^ 

While  Oldbuck  ran  on  in  this  way.  Sir  Arthur  was 
safely  wrapped  in  the  close  embraces  of  his  daughter, 
who,  assuming  that  authority  which  the  circumstances 
demanded,  ordered  some  of  the  assistants  to  convey  him 
to  the  chariot,  promising  to  follow  in  a  few  minutes.  She 
lingered  on  the  cliff,  holding  an  old  countryman's  arm, 
to  witness  probably  the  safety  of  those  whose  dangers 
she  had  shared. 

^What  have  we  here?'  said  Oldbuck,  as  the  vehicle 
once  more  ascended.  *  What  patched  and  weather-beaten 
matter  is  this?'  Then,  as  the  torches  illumined  the 
rough  face  and  grey  hairs  of  old  Ochiltree  —  ^  What!  is  it 
thou?  Come,  old  mocker,  I  must  needs  be  friends  with 
thee;  but  who  the  devil  makes  up  your  party  besides?' 

^  Ane  that 's  weel  worth  ony  twa  o'  us,  Monkbarns :  it 's 
the  young  stranger  lad  they  ca'  Lovel;  and  he's  behaved 
this  blessed  night  as  if  he  had  three  lives  to  rely  on,  and 
was  willing  to  waste  them  a'  rather  than  endanger  ither 
folk's.  Ca'  hooly,  sirs,  as  ye  wad  win  an  auld  man's 
blessing!  Mind  there's  naebody  below  now  to  haud  the 
gy.  Hae  a  care  o'  the  Cat's  Lug  corner;  bide  weel  afl 
Crummie's  Horn!' 

^Have  a  care  indeed,'  echoed  Oldbuck.  ^What!  is  it 
my  rara  avis,  my  black  swan,  my  phoenix  of  companions 
in  a  post-chaise?  Take  care  of  him,  Mucklebackit.' 

lOO 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

^As  muckle  care  as  if  he  were  a  greybeard  o'  brandy; 
and  I  canna  take  mair  if  his  hair  were  like  John  Har- 
lowe's.  Yo  ho,  my  hearts,  bowse  away  with  him ! ' 

Lovel  did,  in  fact,  run  a  much  greater  risk  than  any  of 
his  precursors.  His  weight  was  not  sufficient  to  render 
his  ascent  steady  amid  such  a  storm  of  wind,  and  he 
swung  Uke  an  agitated  pendulum  at  the  mortal  risk  of 
being  dashed  against  the  rocks.  But  he  was  young,  bold, 
and  active,  and,  with  the  assistance  of  the  beggar^s  stout 
piked  staff,  which  he  had  retained  by  advice  of  the 
proprietor,  contrived  to  bear  himself  from  the  face  of  the 
precipice,  and  the  yet  more  hazardous  projecting  cliffs 
which  varied  its  surface.  Tossed  in  empty  space  like  an 
idle  and  unsubstantial  feather,  with  a  motion  that  agi- 
tated the  brain  at  once  with  fear  and  with  dizziness,  he 
retained  his  alertness  of  exertion  and  presence  of  mind; 
and  it  was  not  until  he  was  safely  grounded  upon  the 
summit  of  the  cliff  that  he  felt  temporary  and  giddy 
sickness.  As  he  recovered  from  a  sort  of  half  swoon  he 
cast  his  eyes  eagerly  around.  The  object  which  they 
would  most  willingly  have  sought  was  already  in  the  act 
of  vanishing.  Her  white  garment  was  just  discernible  as 
she  followed  on  the  path  which  her  father  had  taken. 
She  had  lingered  till  she  saw  the  last  of  their  company 
rescued  from  danger,  and  until  she  had  been  assured  by 
the  hoarse  voice  of  Mucklebackit  that '  the  callant  had 
come  off  wi'  unbrizzed  banes,  and  that  he  was  but  in  a 
kind  of  dwam.'  But  Lovel  was  not  aware  that  she  had 
expressed  in  his  fate  even  this  degree  of  interest,  which, 
though  nothing  more  than  was  due  to  a  stranger  who 
had  assisted  her  in  such  an  hour  of  peril,  he  would  have 
gladly  purchased  by  braving  even  more  imminent  danger 


lOI 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


than  he  had  that  evening  been  exposed  to.  The  beggar 
she  had  already  commanded  to  come  to  Knockwinnock 
that  night.  He  made  an  excuse.  —  'Then  to-morrow  let 
me  see  you.' 

The  old  man  promised  to  obey.  Oldbuck  thrust  some- 
thing into  his  hand.  Ochiltree  looked  at  it  by  the  torch- 
light and  returned  it.  '  Na,  na !  I  never  tak  gowd ;  besides, 
Monkbarns,  ye  wad  maybe  be  rueing  it  the  morn.'  Then 
turning  to  the  group  of  fishermen  and  peasants  — '  Now, 
sirs,  wha  will  gie  me  a  supper  and  some  clean  pease-strae?  ^ 

'I,'  *  And  I,'  'And  I,'  answered  many  a  ready  voice. 

^  Aweel,  since  sae  it  is,  and  I  can  only  sleep  in  ae  barn 
at  ance,  I'll  gae  down  wi'  Saunders  Mucklebackit;  he 
has  aye  a  soup  o'  something  comfortable  about  his  big- 
ging;  and,  bairns,  I'll  maybe  live  to  put  ilka  ane  o'  ye  in 
mind  some  ither  night  that  ye  hae  promised  me  quarters 
and  my  awmous ' ;  and  away  he  went  with  the  fisherman. 

Oldbuck  laid  the  hand  of  strong  possession  on  Lovel. 
—  'Deil  a  stride  ye's  go  to  Fairport  this  night,  young 
man;  you  must  go  home  with  me  to  Monkbarns.  Why, 
man,  you  have  been  a  hero  —  a  perfect  Sir  William 
Wallace  by  all  accounts.  Come,  my  good  lad,  take  hold 
of  my  arm ;  I  am  not  a  prime  support  in  such  a  wind,  but 
Caxon  shall  help  us  out.  Here,  you  old  idiot,  come  on 
the  other  side  of  me.  And  how  the  deil  got  you  down  to 
that  infernal  Bessy's  Apron,  as  they  call  it?  Bess,  said 
they  —  why,  curse  her,  she  has  spread  out  that  vile 
pennon  or  banner  of  womankind,  like  all  the  rest  of  her 
sex,  to  allure  her  votaries  to  death  and  headlong  ruin.' 

'I  have  been  pretty  well  accustomed  to  climbing,  and 
I  have  long  observed  fowlers  practise  that  pass  down  the 
cliff.' 

I02 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


*But  how,  in  the  name  of  all  that  is  wonderful,  came 
you  to  discover  the  danger  of  the  pettish  Baronet  and  his 
far  more  deserving  daughter? ' 

'  I  saw  them  from  the  verge  of  the  precipice.' 

^From  the  verge!  umph.  And  what  possessed  you, 
dumosa  pendere  procul  de  rupe?  though  dumosa  is  not  the 
appropriate  epithet  —  what  the  deil,  man,  tempted  ye 
to  the  verge  of  the  craig? ' 

*Why,  I  like  to  see  the  gathering  and  growHng  of  a 
coming  storm;  or,  in  your  own  classical  language,  Mr. 
Oldbuck,  suave  est  mari  magno,  and  so  forth.  But  here 
we  reach  the  turn  to  Fairport;  I  must  wish  you  good- 
night.' 

^Not  a  step,  not  a  pace,  not  an  inch,  not  a  shathmont, 
as  I  may  say;  the  meaning  of  which  word  has  puzzled  > 
many  that  think  themselves  antiquaries.  I  am  clear  we 
should  read   salmon  length"  for  ^'shathmont's  length."  -  , 
You  are  aware  that  the  space  allotted  for  the  passage  of 
a  salmon  through  a  dam,  dike,  or  weir,  by  statute,  is  the  ^ 
length  within  which  a  full-grown  pig  can  turn  himself  . ' /g_ 


round.  Now  I  have  a  scheme  to  prove  that,  as  terrestrial 
objects  were  thus  appealed  to  for  ascertaining  submarine 
measurement,  so  it  must  be  supposed  that  the  produc- 
tions of  the  water  were  established  as  gages  of  the  extent 
of  land.  Shathmont,  salmont  —  you  see  the  close  alli- 
ance of  the  sounds;  dropping  out  two  h's  and  a  /,  and 
assuming  an  /,  makes  the  whole  difference.  I  wish  to 
Heaven  no  antiquarian  derivation  had  demanded  heav- 
ier concessions.' 

^But,  my  dear  sir,  I  really  must  go  home;  I  am  wet  to 
the  skin.' 

*  Shalt  have  my  nightgown,  man,  and  slippers,  and 


103 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


catch  the  antiquarian  fever,  as  men  do  the  plague,  by 
wearing  infected  garments.  Nay,  I  know  what  you 
would  be  at;  you  are  afraid  to  put  the  old  bachelor  to 
charges.  But  is  there  not  the  remains  of  that  glorious 
chicken-pie,  which,  meo  arbitrio,  is  better  cold  than  hot, 
and  that  bottle  of  my  oldest  port,  out  of  which  the  silly 
brain-sick  Baronet  (whom  I  cannot  pardon,  since  he  has 
escaped  breaking  his  neck)  had  just  taken  one  glass 
when  his  infirm  noddle  went  a  wool-gathering  after 
Gamelyn  de  Guardover? ' 

So  saying,  he  dragged  Lovel  forward,  till  the  Palmer's 
Port  of  Monkbarns  received  them.  Never,  perhaps,  had 
it  admitted  two  pedestrians  more  needing  rest;  for 
Monkbarns's  fatigue  had  been  in  a  degree  very  contrary 
to  his  usual  habits,  and  his  more  young  and  robust  com- 
panion had  that  evening  undergone  agitation  of  mind 
which  had  harassed  and  wearied  him  even  more  than  his 
extraordinary  exertions  of  body. 


CHAPTER  IX 


*Be  brave,*  she  cried,  *you  yet  may  be  our  guest, 
Our  haunted  room  was  ever  held  the  best. 
If,  then,  your  valour  can  the  sight  sustain 
Of  rustling  curtains  and  the  clinking  chain; 
If  your  courageous  tongue  have  powers  to  talk, 
When  round  your  bed  the  horrid  ghost  shall  walk; 
If  you  dare  ask  it  why  it  leaves  its  tomb, 
I'll  see  your  sheets  well  air'd,  and  show  the  room/ 

True  Story, 

They  reached  the  room  in  which  they  had  dined,  and 
were  clamorously  welcomed  by  Miss  Oldbuck. 

'Where's  the  younger  womankind?'  said  the  Anti- 
quary. 

'Indeed,  brother,  amang  a'  the  steery  Maria  wadna  be 
guided  by  me;  she  set  away  to  the  Halket  Craig-head.  I 
wonder  ye  didna  see  her.' 

'Eh!  what  —  what's  that  you  say,  sister?  Did  the 
girl  go  out  in  a  night  like  this  to  the  Halket  Head?  Good 
God!  the  misery  of  the  night  is  not  ended  yet!' 

'But  ye  winna  wait,  Monkbarns;  ye  are  so  imperative 
and  impatient — ' 

'Tittle-tattle,  woman,'  said  the  impatient  and  agi- 
tated Antiquary,  'where  is  my  dear  Mary?' 

'Just  where  ye  suld  be  yoursell,  Monkbarns  —  up- 
stairs and  in  her  warm  bed.' 

'I  could  have  sworn  it,'  said  Oldbuck,  laughing,  but 
obviously  much  relieved  —  'I  could  have  sworn  it;  the 
lazy  monkey  did  not  care  if  we  were  all  drowned  to- 
gether. Why  did  you  say  she  went  out?' 

'  But  ye  wadna  wait  to  hear  out  my  tale,  Monkbarns. 
She  gaed  out,  and  she  came  in  again  with  the  gardener 

105 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


sae  sune  as  she  saw  that  nane  o'  ye  were  clodded  ower 
the  craig,  and  that  Miss  Wardour  was  safe  in  the  char- 
iot; she  was  hame  a  quarter  of  an  hour  syne,  for  it 's 
now  ganging  ten;  sair  droukit  was  she,  puir  thing,  sae 
I  e'en  put  a  glass  o'  sherry  in  her  water-gruel.' 

^ Right,  Grizel,  right;  let  womankind  alone  for  cod- 
dling each  other.  But  hear  ye,  my  venerable  sister. 
Start  not  at  the  word  venerable;  it  implies  many  praise- 
worthy quaUties  besides  age;  though  that  too  is  honour- 
able, albeit  it  is  the  last  quality  for  which  womankind 
would  wish  to  be  honoured.  But  perpend  my  words;  let 
Lovel  and  me  have  forthwith  the  relics  of  the  chicken- 
pie  and  the  reversion  of  the  port.' 

^The  chicken-pie!  the  port!  Ou  dear!  brother,  there 
was  but  a  wheen  banes  and  scarce  a  drap  o'  the  wine.' 

The  Antiquary's  countenance  became  clouded, 
though  he  was  too  well-bred  to  give  way,  in  the  presence 
of  a  stranger,  to  his  displeased  surprise  at  the  disappear- 
ance of  the  viands  on  which  he  had  reckoned  with  abso- 
lute certainty.  But  his  sister  understood  these  looks  of 
ire.  'Ou  dear!  Monkbarns,  what's  the  use  of  making  a 
wark? ' 

'I  make  no  wark,  as  ye  call  it,  woman.' 

'But  what's  the  use  o'  looking  sae  glum  and  glunch 
about  a  pickle  banes?  An  ye  will  hae  the  truth,  ye  maun 
ken  the  minister  came  in,  worthy  man;  sair  distressed  he 
was,  nae  doubt,  about  your  precarious  situation,  as  he 
ca'd  it  (for  ye  ken  how  weel  he's  gifted  wi'  words),  and 
here  he  wad  bide  till  he  could  hear  wi'  certainty  how  the 
matter  was  hkely  to  gang  wi'  ye  a'.  He  said  fine  things 
on  the  duty  of  resignation  to  Providence's  will,  worthy 
man!  that  did  he.' 

io6 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


Oldbuck  replied,  catching  the  same  tone,  ^Worthy 
man!  he  cared  not  how  soon  Monkbarns  had  devolved 
on  an  heir  female,  I've  a  notion.  And  while  he  was 
occupied  in  this  Christian  office  of  consolation  against 
impending  evil,  I  reckon  that  the  chicken-pie  and  my 
good  port  disappeared? ' 

'Dear  brother,  how  can  you  speak  of  sic  frivolities, 
when  you  have  had  sic  an  escape  from  the  craig?' 

'Better  than  my  supper  has  had  from  the  minister's 
craig,  Grizzy;  it's  all  discussed,  I  suppose?' 

'Hout,  Monkbarns,  ye  speak  as  if  there  was  nae  mair 
meat  in  the  house.  Wad  ye  not  have  had  me  offer  the 
honest  man  some  slight  refreshment  after  his  walk  frae 
the  manse? ' 

Oldbuck  half-whistled,  half-hummed,  the  end  of  the 
old  Scottish  ditty, 

O,  first  they  eated  the  white  puddings, 

And  then  they  eated  the  black,  O, 
And  thought  the  gudeman  unto  himsell, 

The  deil  clink  down  wi^  that,  O! 

His  sister  hastened  to  silence  his  murmurs,  by  propos- 
ing some  of  the  relics  of  the  dinner.  He  spoke  of  another 
bottle  of  wine,  but  recommended  in  preference  a  glass 
of  brandy  which  was  really  excellent.  As  no  entreaties 
could  prevail  on  Lovel  to  indue  the  velvet  nightcap  and 
branched  morning-gown  of  his  host,  Oldbuck,  who  pre- 
tended to  a  little  knowledge  of  the  medical  art,  insisted 
on  his  going  to  bed  as  soon  as  possible,  and  proposed  to 
despatch  a  messenger  (the  indefatigable  Caxon)  to  Fair- 
port  early  in  the  morning  to  procure  him  a  change  of 
clothes. 


107 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


This  was  the  first  intimation  Miss  Oldbuck  had  re- 
ceived that  the  young  stranger  was  to  be  their  guest  for 
the  night;  and  such  was  the  surprise  with  which  she  was 
struck  by  a  proposal  so  uncommon  that,  had  the  super- 
incumbent weight  of  her  head-dress,  such  as  we  before 
described,  been  less  preponderant,  her  grey  locks  must 
have  started  up  on  end  and  hurled  it  from  its  position. 

'Lord  haud  a  care  o'  us!'  exclaimed  the  astounded 
maiden. 

'  What 's  the  matter  now,  Grizel? ' 

'  Wad  ye  but  just  speak  a  moment,  Monkbarns? ' 

'Speak!  What  should  I  speak  about?  I  want  to  get  to  \ 
my  bed;  and  this  poor  young  fellow  —  let  a  bed  be  made 
ready  for  him  instantly.' 

'  A  bed !  The  Lord  preserve  us, '  again  ejaculated  Grizel. 

'Why,  what's  the  matter  now?  are  there  not  beds 
and  rooms  enough  in  the  house?  Was  it  not  an  ancient 
hospitium,  in  which  I  am  warranted  to  say  beds  were 
nightly  made  down  for  a  score  of  pilgrims?' 

'0  dear,  Monkbarns!  wha  kens  what  they  might  do 
lang  syne?  But  in  our  time  —  beds!  ay,  troth,  there's 
beds  enow  sic  as  they  are,  and  rooms  enow  too;  but  ye 
ken  yoursell  the  beds  haena  been  sleepit  in.  Lord  kens 
the  time,  nor  the  rooms  aired.  If  I  had  kenn'd,  Mary 
and  me  might  hae  gane  down  to  the  manse.  Miss  Beckie 
is  aye  fond  to  see  us;  and  sae  is  the  minister,  brother. 
But  now,  gude  save  us  — !' 

'Is  there  not  the  Green  Room,  Grizel?'^ 

'Troth  is  there,  and  it  is  in  decent  order  too,  though 
naebody  has  sleepit  there  since  Dr.  Heavysterne,  and  — ' 

'And  what?' 

'And  what!  I'm  sure  ye  ken  yoursell  what  a  night  he 
io8 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


had;  ye  wadna  expose  the  young  gentleman  to  the  like  o' 
that,  wad  ye?' 

Lovel  interfered  upon  hearing  this  altercation,  and 
protested  he  would  far  rather  walk  home  than  put  them 
to  the  least  inconvenience;  that  the  exercise  would  be  of 
service  to  him;  that  he  knew  the  road  perfectly,  by  night 
or  day,  to  Fairport;  that  the  storm  was  abating,  and  so 
forth;  adding  all  that  civility  could  suggest  as  an  excuse 
for  escaping  from  a  hospitality  which  seemed  more  in- 
convenient to  his  host  than  he  could  possibly  have  anti- 
cipated. But  the  howling  of  the  wind  and  pattering  of 
the  rain  against  the  windows,  with  his  knowledge  of  the 
preceding  fatigues  of  the  evening,  must  have  prohibited* 
Oldbuck,  even  had  he  entertained  less  regard  for  his 
young  friend  than  he  really  felt,  from  permitting  him  to 
depart.  Besides,  he  was  piqued  in  honour  to  show  that 
he  himself  was  not  governed  by  womankind.  ^Sit  ye 
down,  sit  ye  down,  sit  ye  down,  man,'  he  reiterated;  *an 
ye  part  so,  I  would  I  might  never  draw  a  cork  again,  and 
here  comes  out  one  from  a  prime  bottle  of  —  strong  ale, 
right  anno  domini;  none  of  your  wassia  quassia  decoc- 
tions, but  brewed  of  Monkbarns  barley.  John  of  the 
Girnel  never  drew  a  better  flagon  to  entertain  a  wander- 
ing minstrel  or  palmer  with  the  freshest  news  from 
Palestine.  And  to  remove  from  your  mind  the  slightest 
wish  to  depart,  know,  that  if  you  do  so  your  character 
as  a-  gallant  knight  is  gone  for  ever.  Why,  't  is  an 
adventure,  man,  to  sleep  in  the  Green  Room  at  Monk- 
barns.  Sister,  pray  see  it  got  ready.  And,  although 
the  bold  adventurer,  Heavysterne,  dree'd  pain  and 
dolour  in  that  charmed  apartment,  it  is  no  reason  why 
a  gallant  knight  like  you,  nearly  twice  as  tall,  and  not 


109 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


half  so  heavy,  should  not  encounter  and  break  the 
spell.' 

^What!  a  haunted  apartment,  I  suppose?' 

^To  be  sure,  to  be  sure;  every  mansion  in  this  country 
of  the  slightest  antiquity  has  its  ghosts  and  its  haunted 
chamber,  and  you  must  not  suppose  us  worse  off  than 
our  neighbours.  They  are  going,  indeed,  somewhat  out 
of  fashion.  I  have  seen  the  day  when,  if  you  had  doubted 
the  reaUty  of  the  ghost  in  an  old  manor-house,  you  ran 
the  risk  of  being  made  a  ghost  yourself,  as  Hamlet  says. 
Yes,  if  you  had  challenged  the  existence  of  Redcowl  in 
the  castle  of  Glenstirym,  old  Sir  Peter  Pepperbrand 
would  have  had  ye  out  to  his  courtyard,  made  you  be- 
take yourself  to  your  weapon,  and  if  your  trick  of  fence 
were  not  the  better,  would  have  sticked  you  like  a  pad- 
dock on  his  own  baronial  middenstead.  I  once  narrowly 
escaped  such  an  affray;  but  I  humbled  myself  and 
apologised  to  Redcowl;  for,  even  in  my  younger  days,  I 
was  no  friend  to  the  monomachia  or  duel,  and  would 
rather  walk  with  Sir  Priest  than  with  Sir  Knight;  I  care 
not  who  knows  so  much  of  my  valour.  Thank  God !  I  am 
old  now,  and  can  indulge  my  irritabilities  without  the 
necessity  of  supporting  them  by  cold  steel.' 

Here  Miss  Oldbuck  reentered  with  a  singularly  sage 
expression  of  countenance.  ^Mr.  Lovel's  bed's  ready, 
brother  —  clean  sheets,  weel  aired,  a  spunk  of  fire  in  the 
chimney.  I  am  sure,  Mr.  Lovel  (addressing  him),  it's  no 
for  the  trouble;  and  I  hope  you  will  have  a  good  night's 
rest.  But — ' 

'You  are  resolved,'  said  the  Antiquary,  Ho  do  what 
you  can  to  prevent  it.' 

'  Me?  I  am  sure  I  have  said  naething,  Monkbarns.' 

no 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

*My  dear  madam/  said  Lovel,  'allow  me  to  ask  you 
the  meaning  of  your  obliging  anxiety  on  my  account.' 

'Ou,  Monkbarns  does  not  like  to  hear  of  it;  but  he 
kens  himsell  that  the  room  has  an  ill  name.  It's  weel 
minded  that  it  was  there  auld  Rab  TuU,  the  town-clerk, 
was  sleeping  when  he  had  that  marvellous  communica- 
tion about  the  grand  law-plea  between  us  and  the  feuars 
at  the  Mussel  Craig.  It  had  cost  a  hantle  siller,  Mr. 
Lovel  —  for  law-pleas  were  no  carried  on  without  siller 
lang  syne  mair  than  they  are  now —  and  the  Monkbarns 
of  that  day  —  our  gudesire,  Mr.  Lovel,  as  I  said  before 
—  was  Hke  to  be  waured  afore  the  Session  for  want  of  a 
paper.  Monkbarns  there  kens  weel  what  paper  it  was, 
but  I'se  warrant  he'll  no  help  me  out  wi'  my  tale,  — 
but  it  was  a  paper  of  great  significance  to  the  plea,  and 
we  were  to  be  waured  for  want  o't.  Aweel,  the  cause 
was  to  come  on  before  the  Fifteen  —  in  presence,  as  they 
ca't  —  and  auld  Rab  Tull,  the  town-clerk,  he  cam  ower 
to  make  a  last  search  for  the  paper  that  was  wanting, 
before  our  gudesire  gaed  into  Edinburgh  to  look  after  his 
plea;  so  there  was  Kttle  time  to  come  and  gang  on.  He 
was  but  a  doited  snuffy  body,  Rab,  as  I've  heard;  but 
then  he  was  the  town-clerk  of  Fairport,  and  the  Monk- 
barns heritors  aye  employed  him  on  account  of  their 
connexion  wi'  the  burgh,  ye  ken.' 

^Sister  Grizel,  this  is  abominable,'  interrupted  Old- 
buck;  'I  vow  to  Heaven  ye  might  have  raised  the  ghosts 
of  every  abbot  of  Trotcosey  since  the  days  of  Waldimir 
in  the  time  you  have  been  detaiHng  the  introduction  to 
this  single  spectre.  Learn  to  be  succinct  in  your  narra- 
tive. Imitate  the  concise  style  of  old  Aubrey,  an  experi- 
enced ghost-seer,  who  entered  his  memoranda  on  these 


III 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


subjects  in  a  terse  businesslike  manner;  exempli  gratia  — 
^'At  Cirencester,  5th  March  1670,  was  an  apparition. 
Being  demanded  whether  good  spirit  or  bad,  made  no 
answer,  but  instantly  disappeared  with  a  curious  per- 
fume and  a  melodious  twang."  —  Vide  his  ''Miscella- 
nies," p.  18,  as  well  as  I  can  remember,  and  near  the 
middle  of  the  page.' 

'O,  Monkbarns,  man!  do  ye  think  everybody  is  as 
book-learned  as  yoursell?  But  ye  like  to  gar  folk  look 
like  fools;  ye  can  do  that  to  Sir  Arthur,  and  the  minister 
his  very  sell.' 

'Nature  has  been  beforehand  with  me,  Grizel,  in  both 
these  instances,  and  in  another  which  shall  be  nameless; 
but  take  a  glass  of  ale,  Grizel,  and  proceed  with  your 
story,  for  it  waxes  late.' 

'Jenny 's  just  warming  your  bed,  Monkbarns,  and  ye 
maun  e'en  wait  till  she 's  done.  Weel,  I  was  at  the  search 
that  our  gudesire,  Monkbarns  that  then  was,  made  wi' 
auld  Rab  TulFs  assistance;  but  ne'er-be-licket  could 
they  find  that  was  to  their  purpose.  And  sae  after  they 
had  touzled  out  mony  a  leather  poke-full  o'  papers,  the 
town-clerk  had  his  drap  punch  at  e'en  to  wash  the  dust 
out  of  his  throat;  we  never  were  glass-breakers  in  this 
house,  Mr.  Lovel,  but  the  body  had  got  sic  a  trick  of 
sippling  and  tippUng  wi'  the  baihes  and  deacons  when 
they  met  (which  was  amaist  ilka  night)  concerning  the 
common  gude  o'  the  burgh,  that  he  couldna  weel  sleep 
without  it.  But  his  punch  he  gat,  and  to  bed  he  gaed; 
and  in  the  middle  of  the  night  he  gat  a  f earf u'  wakening ! 
He  was  never  just  himsell  after  it,  and  he  was  strucken 
wi'  the  dead  palsy  that  very  day  four  years.  He  thought, 
Mr.  Lovel,  that  he  heard  the  curtains  o'  his  bed  fissil, 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


and  out  he  lookit,  fancying,  puir  man,  it  might  hae  been 
the  cat.  But  he  saw  —  God  hae  a  care  o'  us,  it  gars  my 
flesh  aye  creep,  though  I  hae  tauld  the  story  twenty 
times  —  he  saw  a  weel-fa'ard  auld  gentleman  standing 
by  his  bedside  in  the  moonlight,  in  a  queer-fashioned 
dress,  wi'  mony  a  button  and  band-string  about  it,  and 
that  part  o'  his  garments  which  it  does  not  become  a 
leddy  to  particulareeze  was  baith  side  and  wide,  and  as 
mony  plies  o't  as  of  ony  Hamburgh  skipper's.  He  had 
a  beard  too,  and  whiskers  turned  upwards  on  his  upper- 
lip,  as  lang  as  baudrons';  and  mony  mair  particulars 
there  were  that  Rab  TuU  tauld  o',  but  they  are  forgotten 
now;  it's  an  auld  story.  Aweel,  Rab  was  a  just-living 
man  for  a  country  writer,  and  he  was  less  fear'd  than 
maybe  might  just  hae  been  expected,  and  he  asked  in 
the  name  o'  goodness  what  the  apparition  wanted.  And 
the  spirit  answered  in  an  unknown  tongue.  Then  Rab 
said  he  tried  him  wi'  Erse,  for  he  cam  in  his  youth  frae 
the  braes  of  GlenUvat;  but  it  wadna  do.  Aweel,  in  this 
strait  he  bethought  him  of  the  twa  or  three  words  o' 
Latin  that  he  used  in  making  out  the  town's  deeds,  and 
he  had  nae  sooner  tried  the  spirit  wi'  that  than  out  cam 
sic  a  blatter  o'  Latin  about  his  lugs  that  poor  Rab  TuU, 
wha  was  nae  great  scholar,  was  clean  owerwhelmed.  Od, 
but  he  was  a  bauld  body,  and  he  minded  the  Latin  name 
for  the  deed  that  he  was  wanting.  It  was  something 
about  a  cart  I  fancy,  for  the  ghaist  cried  aye,  Carter y 
carter — ' 

'Carta,  you  transformer  of  languages,'  cried  Oldbuck; 
*if  my  ancestor  had  learned  no  other  language  in  the 
other  world,  at  least  he  would  not  forget  the  Latinity 
for  which  he  was  so  famous  while  in  this.' 

fi  '  113 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


Weel,  weel,  carta  be  it  then,  but  they  ca'd  it  carter 
that  teird  me  the  story.  It  cried  aye  carta,  if  sae  be  that 
it  was  carta,  and  made  a  sign  to  Rab  to  follow  it.  Rab 
TuU  keepit  a  Highland  heart,  and  bang'd  out  o'  bed,  and 
till  some  of  his  readiest  claes;  and  he  did  follow  the  thing 
upstairs  and  downstairs  to  the  place  we  ca'  the  high 
dow-cot  (a  sort  of  a  Httle  tower  in  the  corner  of  the  auld 
house,  where  there  was  a  rickle  o'  useless  boxes  and 
trunks),  and  there  the  ghaist  gae  Rab  a  kick  wi'  the  tae 
foot,  and  a  kick  wi'  the  tother,  to  that  very  auld  east- 
country  tabernacle  of  a  cabinet  that  my  brother  has 
standing  beside  his  Kbrary  table,  and  then  disappeared 
like  a  fuff  o'  tobacco,  leaving  Rab  in  a  very  pitiful 
condition.' 

'Tenues  secessit  in  auras,  quoth  Oldbuck.  ^  Marry, 
sir,  mansit  odor.  But,  sure  enough,  the  deed  was  there 
found  in  a  drawer  of  this  forgotten  repository,  which 
contained  many  other  curious  old  papers,  now  properly 
labelled  and  arranged,  and  which  seem  to  have  belonged 
to  my  ancestor,  the  first  possessor  of  Monkbarns.  The 
deed  thus  strangely  recovered  was  the  original  charter  of 
erection  of  the  abbey,  abbey  lands,  and  so  forth,  of 
Trotcosey,  comprehending  Monkbarns  and  others,  into 
a  lordship  of  regality  in  favour  of  the  first  Earl  of  Glen- 
gibber,  a  favourite  of  James  the  Sixth.  It  is  subscribed 
by  the  King  at  Westminster,  the  seventeenth  day  of 
January,  A.D.  one  thousand  six  hundred  and  twelve - 
thirteen.  It's  not  worth  while  to  repeat  the  witnesses' 
names.' 

^I  would  rather,'  said  Lovel,  with  awakened  curiosity 
—  ^I  would  rather  hear  your  opinion  of  the  way  in 
which  the  deed  was  discovered.' 

114 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

'Why,  if  I  wanted  a  patron  for  my  legend,  I  could  find 
no  less  a  one  than  Saint  Augustine,  who  tells  the  story  of 
a  deceased  person  appearing  to  his  son,  when  sued  for  a 
debt  which  had  been  paid,  and  directing  him  where  to 
find  the  discharge.^  But  I  rather  opine  with  Lord  Bacon, 
who  says  that  imagination  is  much  akin  to  miracle- 
working  faith.  There  was  always  some  idle  story  of  the 
room  being  haunted  by  the  spirit  of  Aldobrand  Olden- 
buck,  my  great-great-great-grandfather,  —  it's  a  shame 
to  the  English  language  that  we  have  not  a  less  clumsy 
way  of  expressing  a  relationship  of  which  we  have  occa- 
sion to  think  and  speak  so  frequently.  He  was  a  for- 
eigner, and  wore  his  national  dress,  of  which  tradition 
had  preserved  an  accurate  description;  and  indeed  there 
is  a  print  of  him,  supposed  to  be  by  Reginald  Elstracke, 
pulling  the  press  with  his  own  hand,  as  it  works  off  the 
sheets  of  his  scarce  edition  of  the  Augsburg  Confession. 
He  was  a  chemist  as  well  as  a  good  mechanic,  and  either 
of  these  qualities  in  this  country  was  at  that  time  suffi- 
cient to  constitute  a  white  witch  at  least.  This  supersti- 
tious old  writer  had  heard  all  this,  and  probably  beheved 
it,  and  in  his  sleep  the  image  and  idea  of  my  ancestor 
recalled  that  of  his  cabinet,  which,  with  the  grateful 
attention  to  antiquities  and  the  memory  of  our  ancestors 
not  unusually  met  with,  had  been  pushed  into  the 
pigeon-house  to  be  out  of  the  way.  Add  a  quantum  f  ^ 
sufficit  of  exaggeration,  and  you  have  a  key  to  the  whole 
mystery.' 

^Oh,  brother,  brother!  But  Dr.  Heavysteme,  brother, 
whose  sleep  was  so  sore  broken  that  he  declared  he 
wadna  pass  another  night  in  the  Green  Room  to  get  all 
^  See  Note  i. 
IIS 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


Monkbarns,  so  that  Mary  and  I  were  forced  to  yield 
our  — ' 

^Why,  Grizel,  the  doctor  is  a  good,  honest,  pudding- 
headed  German,  of  much  merit  in  his  own  way,  but  fond 
of  the  mystical,  like  many  of  his  countrymen.  You  and 
he  had  a  traffic  the  whole  evening,  in  which  you  re- 
ceived tales  of  Mesmer,  Schropfer,  Cagliostro,  and 
other  modern  pretenders  to  the  mystery  of  raising 
spirits,  discovering  hidden  treasure,  and  so  forth,  in  ex- 
change for  your  legends  of  the  green  bedchamber;  and 
considering  that  the  illustrissimus  ate  a  pound  and  a 
half  of  Scotch  collops  to  supper,  smoked  six  pipes,  and 
drank  ale  and  brandy  in  proportion,  I  am  not  surprised 
at  his  having  a  fit  of  the  nightmare.  But  everything  is 
now  ready.  Permit  me  to  Ught  you  to  your  apartment, 
Mr.  Lovel;  I  am  sure  you  have  need  of  rest,  and  I  trust 
my  ancestor  is  too  sensible  of  the  duties  of  hospitality 
to  interfere  with  the  repose  which  you  have  so  well 
merited  by  your  manly  and  gallant  behaviour.' 

So  saying,  the  Antiquary  took  up  a  bedroom  candle- 
stick of  massive  silver  and  antique  form,  which,  he  ob- 
served, was  wrought  out  of  the  silver  found  in  the  mines 
of  the  Harz  Mountains,  and  had  been  the  property  of 
the  very  personage  who  had  supplied  them  with  a  sub- 
ject for  conversation.  And  having  so  said,  he  led  the 
way  through  many  a  dusky  and  winding  passage,  now 
ascending  and  anon  descending  again,  until  he  came  to 
the  apartment  destined  for  his  young  guest. 


CHAPTER  X 


When  midnight  o'er  the  moonless  skies 
Her  pall  of  transient  death  has  spread, 
When  mortals  sleep,  when  spectres  rise, 
And  none  are  wakeful  but  the  dead; 
No  bloodless  shape  my  way  pursues. 
No  sheeted  ghost  my  couch  annoys, 
Visions  more  sad  my  fancy  views,  — 
Visions  of  long-departed  joys. 

W.  R.  Spenser. 

When  they  reached  the  Green  Room,  as  it  was  called, 
Oldbuck  placed  the  candle  on  the  toilet-table,  before  a 
huge  mirror  with  a  black  japanned  frame,  surrounded 
by  dressing-boxes  of  the  same,  and  looked  around  him 
with  something  of  a  disturbed  expression  of  countenance. 

am  seldom  in  this  apartment,'  he  said,  ^and  never 
without  yielding  to  a  melancholy  feeling;  not,  of  course, 
on  account  of  the  childish  nonsense  that  Grizel  was  tell- 
ing you,  but  owing  to  circumstances  of  an  early  and  un- 
happy attachment.  It  is  at  such  moments  as  these,  Mr. 
Lovel,  that  we  feel  the  changes  of  time.  The  same  ob- 
jects are  before  us  —  those  inanimate  things  which  we 
have  gazed  on  in  wayward  infancy  and  impetuous  youth, 
in  anxious  and  scheming  manhood  —  they  are  perma- 
nent and  the  same;  but  when  we  look  upon  them  in  cold 
unfeeling  old  age,  can  we,  changed  in  our  temper,  our 
pursuits,  our  feehngs  —  changed  in  our  form,  our  Hmbs, 
and  our  strength  —  can  we  be  ourselves  called  the  same? 
or  do  we  not  rather  look  back  with  a  sort  of  wonder  upon 
our  former  selves,  as  beings  separate  and  distinct  from 
what  we  now  are?  The  philosopher  who  appealed  from 

117 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


Philip  inflamed  with  wine  to  Philip  in  his  hours  of  so- 
briety did  not  choose  a  judge  so  different  as  if  he  had 
appealed  from  Philip  in  his  youth  to  Philip  in  his  old 
age.  I  cannot  but  be  touched  with  the  feeling  so  beauti- 
fully expressed  in  a  poem  which  I  have  heard  repeated:  ^ 

My  eyes  are  dim  with  childish  tears, 

My  heart  is  idly  stirr'd, 
For  the  same  sound  is  in  my  ears 

Which  in  those  days  I  heard. 

Thus  fares  it  still  in  our  decay; 

And  yet  the  wiser  mind 
Mourns  less  for  what  time  takes  away 

Than  what  he  leaves  behind. 

Well,  time  cures  every  wound,  and  though  the  scar  may 
remain  and  occasionally  ache,  yet  the  earliest  agony  of 
its  recent  infliction  is  felt  no  more.'  So  saying,  he  shook 
Lovel  cordially  by  the  hand,  wished  him  good-night,  and 
took  his  leave. 

Step  after  step  Lovel  could  trace  his  host's  retreat 
along  the  various  passages,  and  each  door  which  he 
closed  behind  him  fell  with  a  sound  more  distant  and 
dead.  The  guest,  thus  separated  from  the  living  world, 
took  up  the  candle  and  surveyed  the  apartment.  The 
fire  blazed  cheerfully.  Mrs.  GrizePs  attention  had  left 
some  fresh  wood,  should  he  choose  to  continue  it,  and  the 
apartment  had  a  comfortable,  though  not  a  lively  ap- 
pearance. It  was  hung  with  tapestry,  which  the  looms 
of  Arras  had  produced  in  the  sixteenth  century,  and 
which  the  learned  typographer,  so  often  mentioned,  had 

^  Probably  Wordsworth's  Lyrical  Ballads  had  not  as  yet  been  pub- 
lished. 

Il8 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

brought  with  him  as  a  sample  of  the  arts  of  the  Conti- 
nent. The  subject  was  a  hunting-piece;  and  as  the  leafy 
boughs  of  the  forest-trees,  branching  over  the  tapestry, 
formed  the  predominant  colour,  the  apartment  had 
thence  acquired  its  name  of  the  Green  Chamber.  Grim 
figures,  in  the  old  Flemish  dress,  with  slashed  doublets 
covered  with  ribbands,  short  cloaks,  and  trunk-hose, 
were  engaged  in  holding  greyhounds  or  staghounds  in 
the  leash,  or  cheering  them  upon  the  objects  of  their 
game.  Others,  with  boar-spears,  swords,  and  old-fash- 
ioned guns,  were  attacking  stags  or  boars  whom  they 
had  brought  to  bay.  The  branches  of  the  woven  forest 
were  crowded  with  fowls  of  various  kinds,  each  depicted 
with  its  proper  plumage.  It  seemed  as  if  the  proHfic  and 
rich  invention  of  old  Chaucer  had  animated  the  Flemish 
artist  with  its  profusion,  and  Oldbuck  had  accordingly 
caused  the  following  verses  from  that  ancient  and  excel- 
lent poet  to  be  embroidered  in  Gothic  letters  on  a  sort  of 
border  which  he  had  added  to  the  tapestry:  — 

Lo !  here  be  oakis  grete,  straight  as  a  lime, 
Under  the  which  the  grass,  so  fresh  of  line, 

Be'th  newly  sprung  —  at  eight  foot  or  nine. 
Everich  tree  well  from  his  fellow  grew 

With  branches  broad  laden  with  leaves  new, 
That  sprongen  out  against  the  sonne  sheene, 
Some  golden  red,  and  some  a  glad  bright  green.  \ 

And  in  another  canton  was  the  following  similar  legend: 

And  many  an  hart  and  many  an  hind 
Was  both  before  me  and  behind. 
Of  fawns,  sownders,  bucks,  and  does, 
Was  full  the  wood,  and  many  roes, 
And  many  squirrells  that  ysate 
High  on  the  trees,  and  nuts  ate. 

119 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


The  bed  was  of  a  dark  and  faded  green,  wrought  to 
correspond  with  the  tapestry ,  but  by  a  more  modern  and 
less  skilful  hand.  The  large  and  heavy  stuff-bottomed 
chairs,  with  black  ebony  backs,  were  embroidered  after 
the  same  pattern,  and  a  lofty  mirror  over  the  antique 
chimney-piece  corresponded  in  its  mounting  with  that 
on  the  old-fashioned  toilet. 

*I  have  heard,'  muttered  Lovel,  as  he  took  a  cursory 
view  of  the  room  and  its  furniture,  Hhat  ghosts  often 
chose  the  best  room  in  the  mansion  to  which  they  at- 
tached themselves;  and  I  cannot  disapprove  of  the  taste 
of  the  disembodied  printer  of  the  Augsburg  Confession.' 
But  he  found  it  so  difficult  to  fix  his  mind  upon  the 
stories  which  had  been  told  him,  of  an  apartment  with 
which  they  seemed  so  singularly  to  correspond,  that  he 
almost  regretted  the  absence  of  those  agitated  feelings, 
half  fear,  half  curiosity,  which  sympathise  with  the  old 
legends  of  awe  and  wonder  from  which  the  anxious  real- 
ity of  his  own  hopeless  passion  at  present  detached  him. 
For  he  now  only  felt  emotions  like  those  expressed  in  the 
lines  — 

Ah!  cruel  maid,  how  hast  thou  changed 

The  temper  of  my  mind! 
My  heart,  by  thee  from  all  estranged, 

Becomes  like  thee  unkind. 

He  endeavoured  to  conjure  up  something  hke  the 
feelings  which  would  at  another  time  have  been  congen- 
ial to  his  situation,  but  his  heart  had  no  room  for 
these  vagaries  of  imagination.  The  recollection  of  Miss 
Wardour,  determined  not  to  acknowledge  him  when 
compelled  to  endure  his  society,  and  evincing  her  pur- 
pose to  escape  from  it,  would  have  alone  occupied  his 

1 20 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


imagination  exclusively.  But  with  this  were  united 
recollections  more  agitating  if  less  painful  —  her  hair- 
breadth escape,  the  fortunate  assistance  which  he  had 
been  able  to  render  her.  Yet,  what  was  his  requital? 
She  left  the  cHff  while  his  fate  was  yet  doubtful,  while  it 
was  uncertain  whether  her  preserver  had  not  lost  the 
life  which  he  had  exposed  for  her  so  freely.  Surely  grati- 
tude, at  least,  called  for  some  little  interest  in  his  fate. 
But  no  —  she  could  not  be  selfish  or  unjust;  it  was  no 
part  of  her  nature.  She  only  desired  to  shut  the  door 
against  hope,  and,  even  in  compassion  to  him,  to  extin- 
guish a  passion  which  she  could  never  return. 

But  this  lover-like  mode  of  reasoning  was  not  likely 
to  reconcile  him  to  his  fate,  since  the  more  amiable  his 
imagination  presented  Miss  Wardour,  the  more  incon- 
solable he  felt  he  should  be  rendered  by  the  extinction 
of  his  hopes.  He  was,  indeed,  conscious  of  possessing  the 
power  of  removing  her  prejudices  on  some  points;  but, 
even  in  extremity,  he  determined  to  keep  the  original 
determination  which  he  had  formed  of  ascertaining  that 
she  desired  an  explanation  ere  he  intruded  one  upon 
her.  And,  turn  the  matter  as  he  would,  he  could  not 
regard  his  suit  as  desperate.  There  was  something  of 
embarrassment  as  well  as  of  grave  surprise  in  her  look 
when  Oldbuck  presented  him,  and  perhaps,  upon  second 
thoughts,  the  one  was  assumed  to  cover  the  other.  He 
would  not  relinquish  a  pursuit  which  had  already  cost 
him  such  pains.  Plans,  suiting  the  romantic  temper  of 
the  brain  that  entertained  them,  chased  each  other 
through  his  head,  thick  and  irregular  as  the  motes  of  the 
sunbeam,  and  long  after  he  had  laid  himself  to  rest  con- 
tinued to  prevent  the  repose  which  he  greatly  needed. 

121 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


Then,  wearied  by  the  uncertainty  and  difficulties  with 
which  each  scheme  appeared  to  be  attended,  he  bent  up 
his  mind  to  the  strong  effort  of  shaking  off  his  love, 
^Like  dew-drops  from  the  Uon's  mane,'  and  resuming 
those  studies  and  that  career  of  hf  e  which  his  unrequited 
affection  had  so  long  and  so  fruitlessly  interrupted. 
In  this  last  resolution  he  endeavoured  to  fortify  himself 
by  every  argument  which  pride ,  as  well  as  reason,  could 
suggest.  ^  She  shall  not  suppose,'  he  said,  ^  that,  presum- 
ing on  an  accidental  service  to  her  or  to  her  father,  I  am 
desirous  to  intrude  myself  upon  that  notice  to  which, 
personally,  she  considered  me  as  having  no  title.  I  will 
see  her  no  more.  I  will  return  to  the  land  which,  if  it 
/ (j  affords  none  fairer,  has  at  least  many  as  fair,  and  less 
haughty  than  Miss  Wardour.  To-morrow  I  will  bid 
adieu  to  these  northern  shores,  and  to  her  who  is  as  cold 
and  relentless  as  her  climate.'  When  he  had  for  some 
time  brooded  over  this  sturdy  resolution,  exhausted 
nature  at  length  gave  way,  and,  despite  of  wrath,  doubt, 
and  anxiety,  he  sunk  into  slumber. 

It  is  seldom  that  sleep,  after  such  violent  agitation,  is 
either  sound  or  refreshing.  LoveFs  was  disturbed  by  a 
thousand  baseless  and  confused  visions.  He  was  a  bird, 
he  was  a  fish,  or  he  flew  like  the  one  and  swam  like  the 
other  —  qualities  which  would  have  been  very  essential 
to  his  safety  a  few  hours  before.  Then  Miss  Wardour 
was  a  syren,  or  a  bird  of  Paradise;  her  father  a  triton,  or 
^  /  a  sea-gull ;  and  Oldbuck  alternately  a  porpoise  and  a  cor- 
morant. These  agreeable  imaginations  were  varied  by 
all  the  usual  vagaries  of  a  feverish  dream:  the  air  refused 
to  bear  the  visionary,  the  water  seemed  to  burn  him; 
the  rocks  felt  like  down  pillows  as  he  was  dashed  against 

122 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


them;  whatever  he  undertook  failed  in  some  strange  and 
unexpected  manner,  and  whatever  attracted  his  atten- 
tion underwent,  as  he  attempted  to  investigate  it,  some 
wild  and  wonderful  metamorphosis,  while  his  mind  con- 
tinued all  the  while  in  some  degree  conscious  of  the  de- 
lusion, from  which  it  in  vain  struggled  to  free  itself  by 
awakening  —  feverish  symptoms  all,  with  which  those 
who  are  haunted  by  the  night-hag,  whom  the  learned 
call  Ephialtes,  are  but  too  well  acquainted.  At  length 
these  crude  phantasmata  arranged  themselves  into 
something  more  regular,  if  indeed  the  imagination  of 
Lovel,  after  he  awoke  (for  it  was  by  no  means  the  faculty 
in  which  his  mind  was  least  rich),  did  not  gradually, 
insensibly,  and  unintentionally  arrange  in  better  order 
the  scene  of  which  his  sleep  presented,  it  maybe,  a  less 
distinct  outline.  Or  it  is  possible  that  his  feverish  agita- 
tion may  have  assisted  him  in  forming  the  vision. 

Leaving  this  discussion  to  the  learned,  we  will  say  that, 
after  a  succession  of  wild  images,  such  as  we  have  above 
described,  our  hero,  for  such  we  must  acknowledge  him, 
so  far  regained  a  consciousness  of  locality  as  to  remember 
where  he  was,  and  the  whole  furniture  of  the  Green 
Chamber  was  depicted  to  his  slumbering  eye.  And  here, 
once  more,  let  me  protest  that,  if  there  should  be  so 
much  old-fashioned  faith  left  among  this  shrewd  and 
sceptical  generation  as  to  suppose  that  what  follows 
was  an  impression  conveyed  rather  by  the  eye  than  by 
the  imagination,  I  do  not  impugn  their  doctrine.  He 
was  then,  or  imagined  himself,  broad  awake  in  the 
Green  Chamber,  gazing  upon  the  flickering  and  occa- 
sional flame  which  the  unconsumed  remnants  of  the 
fagots  sent  forth,  as  one  by  one  they  fell  down  upon  the 


123 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


red  embers,  into  which  the  principal  part  of  the  boughs 
to  which  they  belonged  had  crumbled  away.  Insensibly 
the  legend  of  Aldobrand  Oldenbuck,  and  his  mysterious 
visits  to  the  inmates  of  the  chamber,  awoke  in  his  mind, 
and  with  it,  as  we  often  feel  in  dreams,  an  anxious  and 
fearful  expectation,  which  seldom  fails  instantly  to  sum- 
mon up  before  our  mind's  eye  the  object  of  our  fear. 
Brighter  sparkles  of  light  flashed  from  the  chimney  with 
such  intense  brilliancy  as  to  enlighten  all  the  room.  The 
tapestry  waved  wildly  on  the  wall,  till  its  dusky  forms 
seemed  to  become  animated.  The  hunters  blew  their 
horns,  the  stag  seemed  to  fly,  the  boar  to  resist,  and  the 
hounds  to  assail  the  one  and  pursue  the  other;  the  cry  of 
deer,  mangled  by  throttling  dogs,  the  shouts  of  men,  and 
the  clatter  of  horses'  hoofs,  seemed  at  once  to  surround 
him;  while  every  group  pursued,  with  all  the  fury  of  the 
chase,  the  employment  in  which  the  artist  had  repre- 
sented them  as  engaged.  Lovel  looked  on  this  strange 
scene  devoid  of  wonder  (which  seldom  intrudes  itself 
upon  the  sleeping  fancy),  but  with  an  anxious  sensation 
of  awful  fear.  At  length  an  individual  figure  among  the 
tissued  huntsmen,  as  he  gazed  upon  them  more  fixedly, 
seemed  to  leave  the  arras  and  to  approach  the  bed  of  the 
slumberer.  As  he  drew  near  his  figure  appeared  to  alter. 
His  bugle-horn  became  a  brazen  clasped  volume;  his 
hunting-cap  changed  to  such  a  furred  headgear  as 
graces  the  burgomasters  of  Rembrandt;  his  Flemish 
garb  remained,  but  his  features,  no  longer  agitated  with 
the  fury  of  the  chase,  were  changed  to  such  a  state  of 
awful  and  stern  composure  as  might  best  pourtray  the 
first  proprietor  of  Monkbarns,  such  as  he  had  been  de- 
scribed to  Lovel  by  his  descendants  in  the  course  of  the 


124 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

preceding  evening.  As  this  metamorphosis  took  place 
the  hubbub  among  the  other  personages  in  the  arras 
disappeared  from  the  imagination  of  the  dreamer,  which 
was  now  exclusively  bent  on  the  single  figure  before 
him.  Lovel  strove  to  interrogate  this  awful  person  in 
the  form  of  exorcism  proper  for  the  occasion;  but  his 
tongue,  as  is  usual  in  frightful  dreams,  refused  its  ofl&ce 
and  clung  palsied  to  the  roof  of  his  mouth.  Aldobrand 
held  up  his  finger,  as  if  to  impose  silence  upon  the  guest 
who  had  intruded  on  his  apartment,  and  began  deliber- 
ately to  unclasp  the  venerable  volume  which  occupied 
his  left  hand.  When  it  was  unfolded  he  turned  over  the 
leaves  hastily  for  a  short  space,  and  then  raising  his 
figure  to  its  full  dimensions,  and  holding  the  book  aloft 
in  his  left  hand,  pointed  to  a  passage  in  the  page  which 
he  thus  displayed.  Although  the  language  was  unknown 
to  our  dreamer,  his  eye  and  attention  were  both  strongly 
caught  by  the  line  which  the  figure  seemed  thus  to  press 
upon  his  notice,  the  words  of  which  appeared  to  blaze 
with  a  supernatural  light,  and  remained  riveted  upon 
his  memory.  As  the  vision  shut  his  volume  a  strain  of 
delightful  music  seemed  to  fill  the  apartment.  Lovel 
started  and  became  completely  awake.  The  music,  how- 
ever, was  still  in  his  ears,  nor  ceased  till  he  could  dis- 
tinctly follow  the  measure  of  an  old  Scottish  tune. 

He  sate  up  in  bed,  and  endeavoured  to  clear  his  brain 
of  the  phantoms  which  had  disturbed  it  during  this 
weary  night.  The  beams  of  the  morning  sun  streamed 
through  the  half-closed  shutters,  and  admitted  a  dis- 
tinct light  into  the  apartment.  He  looked  round  upon 
the  hangings,  but  the  mixed  groups  of  silken  and 
worsted  huntsmen  were  as  stationary  as  tenter-hooks 

125 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

could  make  them,  and  only  trembled  slightly  as  the 
early  breeze,  which  found  its  way  through  an  open  crev- 
ice of  the  latticed  window,  glided  along  their  surface. 
Lovel  leapt  out  of  bed,  and,  wrapping  himself  in  a  morn- 
ing-gown that  had  been  considerately  laid  by  his  bed- 
side, stepped  towards  the  window  which  commanded 
a  view  of  the  sea,  the  roar  of  whose  billows  announced 
it  still  disquieted  by  the  storm  of  the  preceding  evening, 
although  the  morning  was  fair  and  serene.  The  window 
of  a  turret,  which  projected  at  an  angle  with  the  wall, 
and  thus  came  to  be  very  near  Lovel's  apartment,  was 
half  open,  and  from  that  quarter  he  heard  again  the 
same  music  which  had  probably  broken  short  his  dream. 
With  its  visionary  character  it  had  lost  much  of  its 
charms;  it  was  now  nothing  more  than  an  air  on  the 
harpsichord,  tolerably  well  performed  —  such  is  the 
caprice  of  imagination  as  affecting  the  fine  arts.  A  fe- 
male voice  sung,  with  some  taste  and  great  simplicity, 
something  between  a  song  and  a  hymn,  in  words  to  the 
following  effect:  — 

'Why  sit'st  thou  by  that  ruin'd  hall, 
Thou  aged  carle  so  stern  and  grey? 

Dost  thou  its  former  pride  recall, 
Or  ponder  how  it  passed  away?  * 

'Know'st  thou  not  me!'  the  Deep  Voice  cried; 

*  So  long  enjoyed,  so  oft  misused, 
Alternate,  in  thy  fickle  pride, 
Desired,  neglected,  and  accused? 

'Before  my  breath,  like  blazing  flax, 

Man  and  his  marvels  pass  away, 
And  changing  empires  wane  and  wax. 

Are  founded,  flourish,  and  decay. 

126 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

*  Redeem  mine  hours  —  the  space  is  brief  — 
While  in  my  glass  the  sand-grains  shiver, 
And  measureless  thy  joy  or  grief, 
When  Time  and  thou  shalt  part  for  ever  I' 

While  the  verses  were  yet  singing,  Lovel  had  returned 
to  his  bed;  the  train  of  ideas  which  they  awakened  was 
romantic  and  pleasing,  such  as  his  soul  delighted  in,  and, 
willingly  adjourning  till  more  broad  day  the  doubtful 
task  of  determining  on  his  future  line  of  conduct,  he 
abandoned  himself  to  the  pleasing  languor  inspired  by 
the  music,  and  fell  into  a  sound  and  refreshing  sleep, 
from  which  he  was  only  awakened  at  a  late  hour  by  old 
Caxon,  who  came  creeping  into  the  room  to  render  the 
ofl&ces  of  a  mlet-de-chambre, 

*I  have  brushed  your  coat,  sir,'  said  the  old  man, 
when  he  perceived  Lovel  was  awake;  Hhe  callant 
brought  it  f rae  Fairport  this  morning,  for  that  ye  had  on 
yesterday  is  scantly  feasibly  dry,  though  it's  been  a' 
night  at  the  kitchen  fire;  and  I  hae  cleaned  your  shoon. 
I  doubt  ye '11  no  be  wanting  me  to  tie  your  hair,  for 
(with  a  gentle  sigh)  a'  the  young  gentlemen  wear  crops 
now,  but  I  hae  the  curling-tangs  here  to  gie  it  a  bit  turn 
ower  the  brow,  if  ye  like,  before  ye  gae  down  to  the 
leddies.' 

Lovel,  who  was  by  this  time  once  more  on  his  legs, 
declined  the  old  man's  professional  ofl&ces,  but  accom- 
panied the  refusal  with  such  a  douceur  as  completely 
sweetened  Caxon's  mortification. 

'It's  a  pity  he  disna  get  his  hair  tied  and  pouthered,' 
said  the  ancient  friseur,  when  he  had  got  once  more  into 
the  kitchen,  in  which,  on  one  pretence  or  other,  he  spent 
three-parts  of  his  idle  time  —  that  is  to  say,  of  his  whole 

127 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


time  —  4t's  a  great  pity,  for  he's  a  comely  young  gen- 
tleman.' 

'Hout  awa,  ye  auld  gowk/  said  Jenny  Rintherout, 
^  would  ye  creesh  his  bonny  brown  hair  wi'  your  nasty 
ulyie,  and  then  moust  it  like  the  auld  minister's  wig? 
Ye '11  be  for  your  breakfast,  I'se  warrant?  Hae,  there's 
a  soup  parritch  for  ye;  it  will  set  ye  better  to  be 
slaistering  at  them  and  the  lapper-milk  than  meddling 
wi'  Mr.  Lovel's  head;  ye  wad  spoil  the  maist  natural  and 
beautifaest  head  o'  hair  in  a'  Fairport,  baith  burgh  and 
county.' 

The  poor  barber  sighed  over  the  disrespect  into  which 
his  art  had  so  universally  fallen,  but  Jenny  was  a  person 
too  important  to  offend  by  contradiction;  so,  sitting 
quietly  down  in  the  kitchen,  he  digested  at  once  his 
humiliation  and  the  contents  of  a  bicker  which  held  a 
Scotch  pint  of  substantial  oatmeal  porridge* 


CHAPTER  XI 


Sometimes  he  thinks  that  Heaven  this  pageant  sent, 

And  order'd  all  the  pageants  as  they  went; 
Sometimes  that  only  *t  was  wild  Fancy's  play, 
The  loose  and  scatter'd  relics  of  the  day. 

We  must  now  request  our  readers  to  adjourn  to  the 
breakfast-parlour  of  Mr.  Oldbuck,  who,  despising  the 
modern  slops  of  tea  and  coffee,  was  substantially  regal- 
ing himself,  more  majorum,  with  cold  roast-beef  and  a 
glass  of  a  sort  of  beverage  called  'mum,'  a  species  of  fat 
ale  brewed  from  wheat  and  bitter  herbs,  of  which  the 
present  generation  only  know  the  name  by  its  occur- 
rence in  revenue  acts  of  parliament,  coupled  with  cider, 
perry,  and  other  excisable  commodities.  Lovel,  who 
was  seduced  to  taste  it,  with  difficulty  refrained  from 
pronouncing  it  detestable,  but  did  refrain,  as  he  saw  he 
should  otherwise  give  great  offence  to  his  host,  who  had 
the  liquor  annually  prepared  with  peculiar  care,  accord- 
ing to  the  approved  recipe  bequeathed  to  him  by  the  so 
often  mentioned  Aldobrand  Oldenbuck.  The  hospitality 
of  the  ladies  offered  Lovel  a  breakfast  more  suited  to 
modern  taste,  and  while  he  was  engaged  in  partaking  of 
it  he  was  assailed  by  indirect  inquiries  concerning  the 
manner  in  which  he  had  passed  the  night. 

*We  canna  compliment  Mr.  Lovel  on  his  looks  this 
morning,  brother;  but  he  winna  condescend  on  any 
ground  of  disturbance  he  has  had  in  the  night-time.  I 
am  certain  he  looks  very  pale,  and  when  he  came  here 
he  was  as  fresh  as  a  rose.' 


129 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


'Why,  sister,  consider  this  rose  of  yours  has  been 
knocked  about  by  sea  and  wind  all  yesterday  evening, 
as  if  he  had  been  a  bunch  of  kelp  or  tangle,  and  how  the 
devil  would  you  have  him  retain  his  colour? ' 

*I  certainly  do  still  feel  somewhat  fatigued,'  said 
Lovel,  'notwithstanding  the  excellent  accommodations 
with  which  your  hospitality  so  amply  supplied  me.' 

'Ah,  sir!'  said  Miss  Oldbuck,  looking  at  him  with  a 
knowing  smile,  or  what  was  meant  to  be  one,  'ye '11  not 
allow  of  ony  inconvenience,  out  of  civility  to  us.' 

'  Really,  madam,'  replied  Lovel, '  I  had  no  disturbance ; 
for  I  cannot  term  such  the  music  with  which  some  kind 
fairy  favoured  me.' 

'I  doubted  Mary  wad  waken  you  wi'  her  skreighing; 
she  didna  ken  I  had  left  open  a  chink  of  your  window, 
for,  forbye  the  ghaist,  the  Green  Room  disna  vent  weel 
in  a  high  wind.  But  I  am  judging  ye  heard  mair  than 
Mary's  hits  yestreen;  weel,  men  are  hardy  creatures, 
they  can  gae  through  wi'  a'  thing.  I  am  sure  had  I  been 
to  undergo  ony  thing  of  that  nature  —  that's  to  say, 
that's  beyond  nature  —  I  would  hae  skreigh'd  out  at 
once  and  raised  the  house,  be  the  consequence  what 
liket;  and  I  daresay  the  minister  wad  hae  done  as 
mickle,  and  sae  I  hae  tauld  him.  I  ken  naebody  but  my 
brother,  Monkbarns  himsell,  wad  gae  through  the  Uke 
o't,  if,  indeed,  it  binna  you,  Mr,  Lovel.' 

'A  man  of  Mr.  Oldbuck's  learning,  madam,'  answered 
the  questioned  party,  'would  not  be  exposed  to  the  in- 
convenience sustained  by  the  Highland  gentleman  you 
mentioned  last  night.' 

'Ay!  ay!  ye  understand  now  where  the  difl&culty  lies 
—  language?  He  has  ways  o'  his  ain  wad  banish  a'  thae 

130 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

sort  o'  worricows  as  far  as  the  hindermost  parts  of 
Gideon  (meaning  possibly  Midian) ,  as  Mr.  Blattergowl 
says;  only  ane  wadna  be  uncivil  to  ane's  forebear  though 
he  be  a  ghaist.  I  am  sure  I  will  try  that  receipt  of  yours, 
brother,  that  ye  showed  me  in  a  book,  if  ony  body  is  to 
sleep  in  that  room  again,  though  I  think,  in  Christian 
charity,  ye  should  rather  fit  up  the  matted  room;  it's 
a  wee  damp  and  dark,  to  be  sure,  but  then  we  hae  sae 
seldom  occasion  for  a  spare  bed.' 

'No,  no,  sister;  dampness  and  darkness  are  worse  than 
spectres,  ours  are  spirits  of  light;  and  I  would  rather 
have  you  try  the  spell.' 

'I  will  do  that  blythely,  Monkbarns,  an  I  had  the  in- 
gredients, as  my  cookery  book  ca's  them.  There  was 
vervain  and  dill,  I  mind  that  —  Davie  Dibble  will  ken 
about  them,  though  maybe  he'll  gie  them  Latin  names 
—  and  peppercorn,  we  hae  walth  o'  them,  for  — ' 

'H3^ericon,  thou  foolish  woman!'  thundered  Old- 
buck;  'd'ye  suppose  you're  making  a  haggis;  or  do  you 
think  that  a  spirit,  though  he  be  formed  of  air,  can  be 
expelled  by  a  receipt  against  wind?  This  wise  Grizel  of 
mine,  Mr.  Lovel,  recollects  —  with  what  accuracy  you 
may  judge  —  a  charm  which  I  once  mentioned  to  her, 
and  which,  happening  to  hit  her  superstitious  noddle, 
she  remembers  better  than  anything  tending  to  a  useful 
purpose  I  may  chance  to  have  said  for  this  ten  years. 
But  many  an  old  woman  besides  herself  — ' 

'Auld  woman!  Monkbarns,'  said  Miss  Oldbuck, 
roused  something  above  her  usual  submissive  tone,  'ye 
really  are  less  than  civil  to  me.' 

'Not  less  than  just,  Grizel;  however,  I  include  in  the 
same  class  many  a  sounding  name,  from  Jamblichus 

131 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


down  to  Aubrey,  who  have  wasted  their  time  in  devis- 
ing imaginary  remedies  for  non-existing  diseases.  But 
I  hope,  my  young  friend,  that,  charmed  or  uncharmed, 
secured  by  the  potency  of  Hypericon, 

With  vervain  and  with  dill, 
That  hinder  witches  of  their  will, 

or  left  disarmed  and  defenceless  to  the  inroads  of  the  in- 
visible world,  you  will  give  another  night  to  the  terrors 
of  the  haunted  apartment,  and  another  day  to  your 
faithful  and  feal  friends/ 

'I  heartily  wish  I  could,  but  — ' 

*Nay,  "But  me  no  buts";  I  have  set  my  heart  upon 
it' 

'I  am  greatly  obhged  my  dear  sir,  but  — ' 
^Look  ye  there  now  —  "but"  again!  I  hate  "but'';  I 
know  no  form  of  expression  in  which  he  can  appear  that 
is  amiable  excepting  as  a  butt  of  sack.  "But"  is  to  me  a 
more  detestable  combination  of  letters  than  "no"  itself. 
"No"  is  a  surly,  honest  fellow,  speaks  his  mind  rough 
and  round  at  once.  "But''  is  a  sneaking,  evasive,  half- 
/  bred,  exceptions  sort  of  a  conjunction,  which  comes  to 
pull  away  the  cup  just  when  it  is  at  your  lips. 

It  does  allay 
The  good  precedent;  fie  upon  "but  yet"! 
"But  yet"  is  as  a  jailor  to  bring  forth 
Some  monstrous  malefactor.' 

'Well,  then,'  answered  Lovel,  whose  motions  were 
really  undetermined  at  the  moment,  'you  shall  not 
connect  the  recollection  of  my  name  with  so  churlish  a 
particle;  I  must  soon  think  of  leaving  Fairport,  I  am 

132 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


afraid,  and  I  will,  since  you  are  good  enough  to  wish  it, 
take  this  opportunity  of  spending  another  day  here.' 

^ And  you  shall  be  rewarded,  my  boy.  First  you  shall 
see  John  o'  the  Girnel's  grave,  and  then  we'll  walk 
gently  along  the  sands,  the  state  of  the  tide  being  first 
ascertained  —  for  we  will  have  no  more  Peter  Wilkins' 
adventures,  no  more  Glum  and  Gawrie  work,  —  as  far  as 
Knockwinnock  Castle,  and  inquire  after  the  old  knight 
and  my  fair  foe,  which  will  be  but  barely  civil,  and 
then  — ' 

'I  beg  pardon,  my  dear  sir;  but  perhaps  you  had 
better  adjourn  your  visit  till  to-morrow.  I  am  a 
stranger,  you  know.' 

'And  are,  therefore,  the  more  bound  to  show  civility, 
I  should  suppose.  But  I  beg  your  pardon  for  mentioning 
a  word  that  perhaps  belongs  only  to  a  collector  of  anti- 
quities. I  am  one  of  the  old  school, 

When  courtiers  gallop'd  o'er  four  counties 
The  ball's  fair  partner  to  behold, 
And  humbly  hope  she  caught  no  cold.' 

'Why,  if  —  if  —  if  —  you  thought  it  would  be  ex- 
pected; but  I  believe  I  had  better  stay.' 

'Nay,  nay,  my  good  friend,  I  am  not  so  old- 
fashioned  as  to  press  you  to  what  is  disagreeable, 
neither;  it  is  sufficient  that  I  see  there  is  some 
femora,  some  cause  of  delay,  some  mid  impediment, 
which  I  have  no  title  to  inquire  into.  Or  you  are 
still  somewhat  tired  perhaps;  I  warrant  I  find  means  to 
entertain  your  intellects  without  fatiguing  your  Kmbs. 
I  am  no  friend  to  violent  exertion  myself  —  a  walk  in  the 
garden  once  a  day  is  exercise  enough  for  any  thinking 

133 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


being,  none  but  a  fool  or  a  fox-hunter  would  require 
more.  Well,  what  shall  we  set  about  —  my  ''Essay  on 
Castrametation?''  but  I  have  that  in  petto  for  our  after- 
noon cordial.  Or  I  will  show  you  the  controversy  upon 
"  Ossian's  Poems''  between  Mac-Cribb  and  me;  I  hold 
with  the  acute  Orcadian,  he  with  the  defenders  of  the 
authenticity.  The  controversy  began  in  smooth,  oily, 
lady-like  terms,  but  is  now  waxing  more  sour  and 
eager  as  we  get  on;  it  already  partakes  somewhat  of  old 
Scaliger's  style.  I  fear  the  rogue  will  get  some  scent  of 
that  story  of  Ochiltree's;  but  at  worst  I  have  a  hard 
repartee  for  him  on  the  affair  of  the  abstracted  Anti- 
gonus.  I  will  show  you  his  last  epistle,  and  the  scroll 
of  my  answer;  egad,  it  is  a  trimmer!' 

So  saying,  the  Antiquary  opened  a  drawer  and  began 
rummaging  among  a  quantity  of  miscellaneous  papers, 
ancient  and  modern.  But  it  was  the  misfortune  of  this 
learned  gentleman,  as  it  may  be  that  of  many  learned 
and  unlearned,  that  he  frequently  experienced  on  such 
occasions  what  harlequin  calls  Vemharras  des  richesses; 
in  other  words,  the  abundance  of  his  collection  often 
prevented  him  from  finding  the  article  he  sought  for. 
^ Curse  the  papers!  I  believe,'  said  Oldbuck,  as  he 
shuffled  them  to  and  fro  —  'I  believe  they  make  them- 
selves wings  Uke  grasshoppers  and  fly  away  bodily;  but 
here,  in  the  meanwhile,  look  at  that  little  treasure.'  So 
saying,  he  put  into  his  hand  a  case  made  of  oak,  fenced 
at  the  corner  with  silver  roses  and  studs.  ^Pr'ythee  undo 
this  button,'  said  he,  as  he  observed  Lovel  fumbling  at 
the  clasp.  He  did  so,  the  hd  opened,  and  discovered  a 
thin  quarto  curiously  bound  in  black  shagreen  — *  There, 
Mr.  Lovel,  there  is  the  work  I  mentioned  to  you  last 

134 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

night  —  the  rare  quarto  of  the  Augsburg  Confession, 
the  foundation  at  once  and  the  bulwark  of  the  Reforma- 
tion, drawn  up  by  the  learned  and  venerable  Melanc- 
thon,  defended  by  the  Elector  of  Saxony  and  the  other 
valiant  hearts  who  stood  up  for  their  faith,  even  against 
the  front  of  a  powerful  and  victorious  emperor,  and  im- 
printed by  the  scarcely  less  venerable  and  praiseworthy 
Aldobrand  Oldenbuck,  my  happy  progenitor,  during 
the  yet  more  tyrannical  attempts  of  Philip  II  to  sup- 
press at  once  civil  and  religious  Hberty.  Yes,  sir,  for 
printing  this  work  that  eminent  man  was  expelled  from 
his  ungrateful  country,  and  driven  to  establish  his  house- 
hold gods  even  here  at  Monkbarns,  among  the  ruins  of 
papal  superstition  and  domination.  Look  upon  his  ven- 
erable efl&gies,  Mr.  Lovel,  and  respect  the  honourable 
occupation  in  which  it  presents  him,  as  labouring  per- 
sonally at  the  press  for  the  diffusion  of  Christian  and 
political  knowledge.  And  see  here  his  favourite  motto, 
expressive  of  his  independence  and  self-reliance,  which 
scorned  to  owe  anything  to  patronage  that  was  not 
earned  by  desert  —  expressive  also  of  that  firmness  of 
mind  and  tenacity  of  purpose  recommended  by  Horace. 
He  was,  indeed,  a  man  who  would  have  stood  firm  had 
his  whole  printing-house,  presses,  founts,  forms,  great 
and  small  pica,  been  shivered  to  pieces  around  him. 
Read,  I  say,  his  motto;  for  each  printer  had  his  motto  or 
device  when  that  illustrious  art  was  first  practised.  My 
ancestor's  was  expressed,  as  you  see,  in  the  Teutonic 
phrase,  Kunst  macht  Gunst;  that  is,  skill  or  prudence  in 
availing  ourselves  of  our  natural  talents  and  advan- 
tages will  compel  favour  and  patronage,  even  where  it 
is  withheld  from  prejudice  or  ignorance,' 

135 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


^And  that/  said  Lovel,  after  a  moment's  thoughtful 
silence  —  '  that  then  is  the  meaning  of  these  German 
words?' 

^Unquestionably;  you  perceive  the  appropriate  appli- 
cation to  a  consciousness  of  inward  worth,  and  of  em- 
inence in  a  useful  and  honourable  art.  Each  printer  in 
those  days,  as  I  have  already  informed  you,  had  his 
device,  his  impresa,  as  I  may  call  it,  in  the  same  manner 
as  the  doughty  chivalry  of  the  age,  who  frequented  tilt 
and  tournament.  My  ancestor  boasted  as  much  in  his 
as  if  he  had  displayed  it  over  a  conquered  field  of  battle, 
though  it  betokened  the  diffusion  of  knowledge,  not  the 
effusion  of  blood.  And  yet  there  is  a  family  tradition 
which  affirms  him  to  have  chosen  it  from  a  more  roman- 
tic circumstance.' 

*And  what  is  that  said  to  have  been,  my  good  sir?' 
inquired  his  young  friend. 

^  Why,  it  rather  encroaches  on  my  respected  predeces- 
sor's fame  for  prudence  and  wisdom;  sed  semel  insani- 
vimus  omnes  —  everybody  has  played  the  fool  in  their 
turn.  It  is  said  my  ancestor,  during  his  apprenticeship 
with  the  descendant  of  old  Fust,  whom  popular  tradi- 
tion hath  sent  to  the  devil  under  the  name  of  Faustus, 
was  attracted  by  a  paltry  slip  of  womankind,  his 
master's  daughter,  called  Bertha.  They  broke  rings,  or 
went  through  some  idiotical  ceremony,  as  is  usual  on 
such  idle  occasions  as  the  plighting  of  a  true-love  troth, 
and  Aldobrand  set  out  on  his  journey  through  Germany, 
as  became  an  honest  handwerker;  for  such  was  the  cus- 
tom of  mechanics  at  that  time,  to  make  a  tour  through 
the  empire,  and  work  at  their  trade  for  a  time  in  each  of 
the  most  eminent  towns,  before  they  finally  settled  them- 

136 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

selves  for  life.  It  was  a  wise  custom;  for,  as  such  travel- 
lers were  received  like  brethren  in  each  town  by  those  of 
their  own  handicraft,  they  were  sure  in  every  case  to 
have  the  means  either  of  gaining  or  communicating 
knowledge.  When  my  ancestor  returned  to  Nurem- 
berg he  is  said  to  have  found  his  old  master  newly  dead, 
and  two  or  three  gallant  young  suitors,  some  of  them 
half-starved  sprigs  of  nobility  forsooth,  in  pursuit  of  the 
Yungfrau  Bertha,  whose  father  was  understood  to  have 
bequeathed  her  a  dowry  which  might  weigh  against 
sixteen  armorial  quarters.  But  Bertha,  not  a  bad 
sample  of  womankind,  had  made  a  vow  she  would  only 
marry  that  man  who  could  work  her  father's  press.  The 
skill  at  that  time  was  as  rare  as  wonderful:  besides  that 
the  expedient  rid  her  at  once  of  most  of  her  gentle'' 
suitors,  who  would  have  as  soon  wielded  a  conjuring 
wand  as  a  composing  stick.  Some  of  the  more  ordinary 
typographers  made  the  attempt;  but  none  were  suffi- 
ciently possessed  of  the  mystery.  But  I  tire  you.' 

'By  no  means;  pray,  proceed,  Mr.  Oldbuck.  I  listen 
with  uncommon  interest.' 

'Ah!  it  is  all  folly.  However,  Aldobrand  arrived  in 
the  ordinary  dress,  as  we  would  say,  of  a  journeyman 
printer  —  the  same  with  which  he  had  traversed  Ger- 
many, and  conversed  with  Luther,  Melancthon,  Eras- 
mus, and  other  learned  men,  who  disdained  not  his 
knowledge,  and  the  power  he  possessed  of  diffusing  it, 
though  hid  under  a  garb  so  homely.  But  what  appeared 
respectable  in  the  eyes  of  wisdom,  religion,  learning,  and 
philosophy  seemed  mean,  as  might  readily  be  supposed, 
and  disgusting,  in  those  of  silly  and  affected  woman- 
kind, and  Bertha  refused  to  acknowledge  her  former 

137 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


lover  in  the  torn  doublet,  skin  cap,  clouted  shoes,  and 
leathern  apron  of  a  travelling  handicraftsman  or  me- 
chanic. He  claimed  his  privilege,  however,  of  being  ad- 
mitted to  a  trial;  and  when  the  rest  of  the  suitors  had 
either  declined  the  contest,  or  made  such  work  as  the 
devil  could  not  read  if  his  pardon  depended  on  it,  all 
eyes  were  bent  on  the  stranger.  Aldobrand  stepped 
gracefully  forward,  arranged  the  types  without  omission 
of  a  single  letter,  hyphen,  or  comma,  imposed  them  with- 
out deranging  a  single  space,  and  pulled  off  the  first 
proof  as  clear  and  free  from  errors  as  if  it  had  been  a 
triple  revise!  All  applauded  the  worthy  successor  of  the 
immortal  Faustus,  the  blushing  maiden  acknowledged 
her  error  in  trusting  to  the  eye  more  than  the  intellect, 
and  the  elected  bridegroom  thenceforward  chose  for  his 
impress  or  device  the  appropriate  words,  Skill  wins 
favour."  But  what  is  the  matter  with  you?  you  are  in  a 
brown  study?  Come,  I  told  you  this  was  but  trumpery 
conversation  for  thinking  people;  and  now  I  have  my 
hand  on  the  Ossianic  controversy.' 

beg  your  pardon,'  said  Lovel;  am  going  to  appear 
very  silly  and  changeable  in  your  eyes,  Mr.  Oldbuck,  but 
you  seemed  to  think  Sir  Arthur  might  in  civility  expect 
a  call  from  me? ' 

^  Psha,  psha,  I  can  make  your  apology ;  and  if  you  must 
leave  us  so  soon  as  you  say,  what  signifies  how  you  stand 
in  his  honour's  good  graces?  And  I  warn  you  that  the 
*  ^  Essay  on  Castrametation  "  is  something  prolix,  and  will 
occupy  the  time  we  can  spare  after  dinner,  so  you  may 
lose  the'Ossianic  controversy  if  we  do  not  dedicate  this 
morning  to  it.  We  will  go  out  to  my  evergreen  bower,  my 
sacred  holly  tree  yonder,  and  have  it  fronde  super  viridi. 

138 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

Sing  hey-ho!  hey-ho!  for  the  green  holly, 

Most  friendship  is  feigning,  most  loving  mere  folly. 

But,  egad/  continued  the  old  gentleman,  'when  I  look 
closer  at  you  I  begin  to  think  you  may  be  of  a  different 
opinion.  Amen,  with  all  my  heart;  I  quarrel  with  no 
man's  hobby,  if  he  does  not  run  it  a  tilt  against  mine; 
and  if  he  does,  let  him  beware  his  eyes.  What  say  you? 
in  the  language  of  the  world  and  worldlings  base,  if  you 
can  condescend  to  so  mean  a  sphere,  shall  we  stay  or  go? ' 

'In  the  language  of  selfishness  then,  which  is  of  course 
the  language  of  the  world,  let  us  go  by  all  means.' 

'"Amen,  amen,  quo'  the  earl  marshal,"'  answered 
Oldbuck,  as  he  exchanged  his  slippers  for  a  pair  of  stout 
walking  shoes,  with  'cutikins,'  as  he  called  them,  of 
black  cloth.  He  only  interrupted  the  walk  by  a  slight 
deviation  to  the  tomb  of  John  o'  the  Girnel,  remembered 
as  the  last  baihff  of  the  abbey  who  had  resided  at  Monk- 
barns.  Beneath  an  old  oak  tree  upon  a  hillock,  sloping 
pleasantly  to  the  south,  and  catching  a  distant  view  of 
the  sea  over  two  or  three  rich  enclosures  and  the  Mussel 
Crag,  lay  a  moss-grown  stone,  and,  in  memory  of  the 
departed  worthy,  it  bore  an  inscription,  of  which,  as  Mr. 
Oldbuck  affirmed  (though  many  doubted),  the  defaced 
characters  could  be  distinctly  traced  to  the  following 
effect:  — 

Heir  lyeth  John  o'  ye  Girnell, 

Erth  has  ye  nit  and  heuen  ye  kirnell. 

In  hys  tyme  ilk  wyfe's  hennis  clokit, 

Ilka  gud  mannis  herth  wi^  bairnis  was  stokit, 

He  deled  a  boll  o'  bear  in  firlottis  fyve, 

Four  for  ye  halie  kirke,  and  ane  for  puir  mennis  wyvis. 

'You  see  how  modest  the  author  of  this  sepulchral 
commendation  was:  he  tells  us  that  honest  John  could 


139 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


make  five  firlots,  or  quarters,  as  you  would  say,  out  of 
the  boll,  instead  of  four;  that  he  gave  the  fifth  to  the 
wives  of  the  parish,  and  accounted  for  the  other  four  to 
the  abbot  and  chapter;  that  in  his  time  the  wives'  hens 
always  laid  eggs,  and  devil  thank  them,  if  they  got  one- 
fifth  of  the  abbey  rents;  and  that  honest  men's  hearths 
were  never  unblest  with  offspring  —  an  addition  to  the 
miracle  which  they,  as  well  as  I,  must  have  considered  as 
perfectly  unaccountable.  But  come  on;  leave  we  Jock 
o'  the  Girnel,  and  let  us  jog  oix  to  the  yellow  sands,  where 
the  sea,  like  a  repulsed  enemy,  is  now  retreating  from 
the  ground  on  which  he  gave  us  battle  last  night.' 

Thus  saying,  he  led  the  way  to  the  sands.  Upon  the 
links  or  downs  close  to  them  were  seen  four  or  five  huts 
inhabited  by  fishers,  whose  boats,  drawn  high  upon  the 
beach,  lent  the  odoriferous  vapours  of  pitch  melting 
under  a  burning  sun  to  contend  with  those  of  the  offals 
of  fish  and  other  nuisances  usually  collected  round  Scot- 
tish cottages.  Undisturbed  by  these  complicated  steams 
of  abomination,  a  middle-aged  woman,  with  a  face  which 
had  defied  a  thousand  storms,  sat  mending  a  net  at  the 
door  of  one  of  the  cottages.  A  handkerchief  close  bound 
about  her  head,  and  a  coat  which  had  formerly  been 
that  of  a  man,  gave  her  a  masculine  air,  which  was  in- 
creased by  her  strength,  uncommon  stature,  and  harsh 
voice.  '  What  are  ye  for  the  day,  your  honour? '  she  said, 
or  rather  screamed,  to  Oldbuck  —  ^caller  haddocks  and 
whitings,  a  bannock-fluke  and  a  cock-padle? ' 

*How  much  for  the  bannock-fluke  and  cock-padle?' 
demanded  the  Antiquary. 

^Four  white  shillings  and  saxpence,'  answered  the 
Naiad. 

140 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

^Four  devils  and  six  of  their  imps!'  retorted  the  Anti- 
quary; *  do  ye  think  I  am  mad,  Maggie?' 

'And  div  ye  think/  rejoined  the  virago,  setting  her 
arms  akimbo,  Hhat  my  man  and  my  sons  are  to  gae  to 
the  sea  in  weather  Hke  yestreen  and  the  day  —  sic  a  sea 
as  it's  yet  outby  —  and  get  naething  for  their  fish,  and 
be  misca'd  into  the  bargain,  Monkbarns?  It's  no  fish 
ye 're  buying:  it's  men's  lives/ 

'Well,  Maggie,  I'll  bid  you  fair:  I'll  bid  you  a  shilling 
for  the  fluke  and  the  cock-padle,  or  sixpence  separately; 
and  if  all  your  fish  are  as  well  paid,  I  think  your  man,  as 
you  call  him,  and  your  sons,  will  make  a  good  voyage.' 

*Deil  gin  their  boat  were  knockit  against  the  Bell 
Rock  rather!  it  wad  be  better,  and  the  bonnier  voyage 
o'  the  twa.  A  shilling  for  thae  twa  bonnie  fish!  Od, 
that's  ane  indeed!' 

'Well,  well,  you  old  beldam,  carry  your  fish  up  to 
Monkbarns  and  see  what  my  sister  will  give  you  for 
them.' 

'Na,  na,  Monkbarns,  deil  a  fit.  I'll  rather  deal  wi' 
yoursell ;  for,  though  you  're  near  eneugh,  yet  Miss  Grizel 
has  an  unco  close  grip.  I'll  gie  ye  them  (in  a  softened 
tone)  for  three-and-saxpence.' 

'Eighteen-pence,  or  nothing!' 

'Eighteen-pence!!!'  in  a  loud  tone  of  astonishment, 
which  declined  into  a  sort  of  rueful  whine  when  the 
dealer  turned  as  if  to  walk  away.  'Ye '11  no  be  for  the 
fish  then? '  Then  louder,  as  she  saw  him  moving  off  — 
'I'll  gie  them  —  and  —  and  —  and  a  half-a-dozen  o' 
partans  to  make  the  sauce,  for  three  shiUings  and  a 
dram.' 

'Half-a-crown  then,  Maggie,  and  a  dram.' 

141 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


'  Aweel,  your  honour  maun  hae  't  your  ain  gate,  nae 
doubt;  but  a  dram's  worth  siller  now,  the  distilleries  is 
no  working.' 

*And  I  hope  they'll  never  work  again  in  my  time/ 
said  Oldbuck. 

^Ay,  ay;  it's  easy  for  your  honour  and  the  like  you 
gentlefolks  to  say  sae,  that  hae  stouth  and  routh,  and 
fire  and  fending,  and  meat  and  claith,  and  sit  dry  and 
canny  by  the  fireside;  but  an  ye  wanted  fire,  and  meat, 
and  dry  claise,  and  were  deeing  o'  cauld,  and  had  a  sair 
heart,  whilk  is  warst  ava',  wi'  just  tippence  in  your 
pouch,  wadna  ye  be  glad  to  buy  a  dram  wi't,  to  be  elid- 
ing and  claise,  and  a  supper  and  heart's  ease  into  the 
bargain,  till  the  morn's  morning? ' 

'It's  even  too  true  an  apology,  Maggie.  Is  your  good- 
man  off  to  sea  this  morning,  after  his  exertions  last 
night?' 

'In  troth  is  he,  Monkbarns;  he  was  awa  this  morning 
by  four  o'clock,  when  the  sea  was  working  like  barm  wi' 
yestreen's  wind,  and  our  bit  coble  dancing  in't  like  a 
cork.' 

'  Well,  he 's  an  industrious  fellow.  Carry  the  fish  up  to 
Monkbarns.' 

'That  I  will  — or  I'll  send  little  Jenny,  she'll  rin 
faster;  but  I'll  ca'  on  Miss  Grizzy  for  the  dram  myself, 
and  say  ye  sent  me.' 

A  nondescript  animal,  which  might  have  passed  for  a 
mermaid,  as  it  was  paddling  in  a  pool  among  the  rocks, 
was  summoned  ashore  by  the  shrill  screams  of  its  dam; 
and  having  been  made  decent,  as  her  mother  called  it, 
which  was  performed  by  adding  a  short  red  cloak  to  a 
petticoat,  which  was  at  first  her  sole  covering,  and  which 

142 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

reached  scantily  below  her  knee,  the  child  was  dismissed 
with  the  fish  in  a  basket,  and  a  request  on  the  part  of 
Monkbarns  that  they  might  be  prepared  for  dinner.  *  It 
would  have  been  long,'  said  Oldbuck,  with  much  self- 
complacency,  'ere  my  womankind  could  have  made 
such  a  reasonable  bargain  with  that  old  skinflint,  though 
they  sometimes  wrangle  with  her  for  an  hour  together 
under  my  study  window,  Uke  three  sea-gulls  screaming 
and  sputtering  in  a  gale  of  wind.  But,  come,  wend  we  on 
our  way  to  Knockwinnock.' 


CHAPTER  XII 


Beggar!  The  only  freeman  of  your  commonwealth; 
Free  above  Scot-free,  that  observe  no  laws, 
Obey  no  governor,  use  no  religion 
But  what  they  draw  from  their  own  ancient  custom, 
Ot  constitute  themselves,  yet  they  are  no  rebels. 

Brome. 

With  our  readers^  permission  we  will  outstep  the  slow 
though  sturdy  pace  of  the  Antiquary,  whose  halts,  as  he 
turned  round  to  his  companion  at  every  moment  to 
point  out  something  remarkable  in  the  landscape,  or  to 
enforce  some  favourite  topic  more  emphatically  than  the 
exercise  of  walking  permitted,  delayed  their  progress 
considerably. 

Notwithstanding  the  fatigues  and  dangers  of  the  pre- 
ceding evening,  Miss  Wardour  was  able  to  rise  at  her 
usual  hour,  and  to  apply  herself  to  her  usual  occupa- 
tions, after  she  had  first  satisfied  her  anxiety  concerning 
her  father's  state  of  health.  Sir  Arthur  was  no  farther 
indisposed  than  by  the  effects  of  great  agitation  and 
unusual  fatigue,  but  these  were  sufficient  to  induce  him 
to  keep  his  bedchamber. 

To  look  back  on  the  events  of  the  preceding  day  was 
to  Isabella  a  very  unpleasing  retrospect.  She  owed  her 
life,  and  that  of  her  father,  to  the  very  person  by  whom, 
of  all  others,  she  wished  least  to  be  obliged,  because  she 
could  hardly  even  express  common  gratitude  towards 
him  without  encouraging  hopes  which  might  be  injurious 
to  them  both.  'Why  should  it  be  my  fate  to  receive 
such  benefits,  and  conferred  at  so  much  personal  risk, 

144 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


from  one  whose  romantic  passion  I  have  so  unceasingly 
laboured  to  discourage?  Why  should  chance  have  given 
him  this  advantage  over  me?  and  why,  oh  why,  should  a 
half-subdued  feeUng  in  my  own  bosom,  in  spite  of  my 
sober  reason,  almost  rejoice  that  he  has  attained  it!' 

While  Miss  Wardour  thus  taxed  herself  with  way- 
ward caprice,  she  beheld  advancing  down  the  avenue, 
not  her  younger  and  more  dreaded  preserver,  but  the  old 
beggar  who  had  made  such  a  capital  figure  in  the  melo- 
drama of  the  preceding  evening. 

She  rang  the  bell  for  her  maid-servant.  ^  Bring  the  old 
man  upstairs.' 

The  servant  returned  in  a  minute  or  two.  'He  will 
come  up  at  no  rate,  madam;  he  says  his  clouted  shoes 
never  were  on  a  carpet  in  his  Ufe,  and  that,  please  God, 
they  never  shall.  Must  I  take  him  into  the  servants* 
hall?' 

'No;  stay,  I  want  to  speak  with  him.  Where  is  he?' 
for  she  had  lost  sight  of  him  as  he  approached  the  house. 

'Sitting  in  the  sun  on  the  stone-bench  in  the  court, 
beside  the  window  of  the  flagged  parlour.' 

'Bid  him  stay  there;  I'll  come  down  to  the  parlour 
and  speak  with  him  at  the  window.' 

She  came  down  accordingly,  and  found  the  mendicant 
half-seated,  half-reclining  upon  the  bench  beside  the 
window.  Edie  Ochiltree,  old  man  and  beggar  as  he  was, 
had  apparently  some  internal  consciousness  of  the 
favourable  impressions  connected  with  his  tall  form, 
commanding  features,  and  long  white  beard  and  hair. 
It  used  to  be  remarked  of  him,  that  he  was  seldom  seen 
but  in  a  posture  which  showed  these  personal  attributes 
to  advantage.  At  present,  as  he  lay  half-reclined,  with 

«  I4S 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


his  wrinkled  yet  ruddy  cheek  and  keen  grey  eye  turned 
up  towards  the  sky,  his  staff  and  bag  laid  beside  him, 
and  a  cast  of  homely  wisdom  and  sarcastic  irony  in  the 
expression  of  his  countenance,  while  he  gazed  for  a 
moment  around  the  courtyard,  and  then  resumed  his 
former  look  upward,  he  might  have  been  taken  by  an 
artist  as  the  model  of  an  old  philosopher  of  the  Cynic 
school,  musing  upon  the  frivolity  of  mortal  pursuits,  and 
the  precarious  tenure  of  human  possessions,  and  looking 
up  to  the  source  from  which  aught  permanently  good 
can  alone  be  derived.  The  young  lady,  as  she  presented 
her  tall  and  elegant  figure  at  the  open  window,  but 
divided  from  the  courtyard  by  a  grating,  with  which, 
according  to  the  fashion  of  ancient  times,  the  lower 
windows  of  the  castle  were  secured,  gave  an  interest  of 
a  different  kind,  and  might  be  supposed  by  a  romantic 
imagination  an  imprisoned  damsel  communicating  a  tale 
of  her  durance  to  a  palmer,  in  order  that  he  might  call 
upon  the  gallantry  of  every  knight  whom  he  should 
meet  in  his  wanderings  to  rescue  her  from  her  oppressive 
thraldom. 

After  Miss  Wardour  had  offered,  in  the  terms  she 
thought  would  be  most  acceptable,  those  thanks  which 
the  beggar  decKned  as  far  beyond  his  merit,  she  began 
to  express  herself  in  a  manner  which  she  supposed  would 
speak  more  feelingly  to  his  apprehension.  'She  did  not 
know,'  she  said,  'what  her  father  intended  particularly 
to  do  for  their  preserver,  but  certainly  it  would  be  some- 
thing that  would  make  him  easy  for  Ufe;  if  he  chose  to 
reside  at  the  castle  she  would  give  orders  — ' 

The  old  man  smiled  and  shook  his  head.  'I  wad  be 
baith  a  grievance  and  a  disgrace  to  your  fine  servants, 

146 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


my  leddy,  and  I  have  never  been  a  disgrace  to  ony  body 
yet,  that  I  ken  of/ 

^Sir  Arthur  would  give  strict  orders  — ' 
^  Ye're  very  kind,  I  doubtna,  I  doubtna;  but  there  are 
some  things  a  master  can  command  and  some  he  canna. 
I  daresay  he  wad  gar  them  keep  hands  aff  me  —  and 
troth,  I  think  they  wad  hardly  venture  on  that  ony  gate 
—  and  he  wad  gar  them  gie  me  my  soup  parritch  and 
bit  meat.  But  trow  ye  that  Sir  Arthur's  command  could 
forbid  the  gibe  o'  the  tongue  or  the  blink  o'  the  ee,  or 
gar  them  gie  me  my  food  wi'  the  look  o'  kindness  that 
gars  it  digest  sae  weel,  or  that  he  could  make  them  for- 
bear a'  the  shghts  and  taunts  that  hurt  ane's  spirit  mair 
nor  downright  misca'ing?  Besides,  I  am  the  idlest  auld 
carle  that  ever  lived;  I  downa  be  bound  down  to  hours 
o'  eating  and  sleeping;  and,  to  speak  the  honest  truth, 
I  wad  be  a  very  bad  example  in  ony  weel-regulated 
family.' 

^  Well  then,  Edie,  what  do  you  think  of  a  neat  cottage 
and  a  garden,  and  a  daily  dole,  and  nothing  to  do  but 
to  dig  a  little  in  your  garden  when  you  pleased  yourself? ' 

*  An  how  often  wad  that  be,  trow  ye,  my  leddy?  maybe 
no  ance  atween  Candlemas  and  Yule.  And  if  a'  thing 
were  done  to  my  hand  as  if  I  was  Sir  Arthur  himsell,  I 
could  never  bide  the  staying  still  in  ae  place,  and  just 
seeing  the  same  joists  and  couples  aboon  my  head  night 
after  night.  And  then  I  have  a  queer  humour  o'  my  ain, 
that  sets  a  strolling  beggar  weel  eneugh,  whase  word 
naebody  minds;  but  ye  ken  Sir  Arthur  has  odd  sort  o' 
ways,  and  I  wad  be  jesting  or  scorning  at  them,  and  ye 
wad  be  angry,  and  then  I  wad  be  just  fit  to  hang  mysell/ 

*0,  you  are  a  licensed  man,'  said  Isabella;  'we  shall 

147 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


give  you  all  reasonable  scope.  So  you  had  better  be 
ruled,  and  remember  your  age/ 

'But  I  am  no  that  sair  failed  yet/  replied  the  mendi- 
cant. *  Od,  ance  I  gat  a  wee  soupled  yestreen  I  was  as 
yauld  as  an  eel.  And  then  what  wad  a'  the  country 
about  do  for  want  o'  auld  Edie  Ochiltree,  that  brings 
news  and  country  cracks  frae  ae  farm-steading  to  anither, 
and  gingerbread  to  the  lasses,  and  helps  the  lads  to  mend 
their  fiddles,  and  the  guidwives  to  clout  their  pans,  and 
plaits  rush-swords  and  grenadier  caps  for  the  weans, 
and  busks  the  laird's  flees,  and  has  skill  o'  cow-ills  and 
horse-ills,  and  kens  mair  auld  sangs  and  tales  than  a'  the 
barony  besides,  and  gars  ilka  body  laugh  wherever  he 
comes?  Troth,  my  leddy ,  I  canna  lay  down  my  vocation : 
it  would  be  a  pubUc  loss.' 

^Well,  Edie,  if  your  idea  of  your  importance  is  so 
strong  as  not  to  be  shaken  by  the  prospect  of  independ- 
ence — ' 

'Na,  na.  Miss;  it's  because  I  am  mair  independent  as 
I  am,'  answered  the  old  man.  'I  beg  nae  mair  at  ony 
single  house  than  a  meal  o'  meat,  or  maybe  but  a 
mouthfou  o't;  if  it's  refused  at  ae  place,  I  get  it  at  an- 
ither, sae  I  canna  be  said  to  depend  on  ony  body  in  par- 
ticular, but  just  on  the  country  at  large.' 

'Well,  then,  only  promise  me  that  you  will  let  me 
know  should  you  ever  wish  to  settle  as  you  turn  old,  and 
more  incapable  of  making  your  usual  rounds;  and  in 
the  meantime  take  this.' 

'Na,  na,  my  leddy;  I  downa  take  muckle  siller  at  anes, 
it's  against  our  rule;  and  —  though  it's  maybe  no  civil 
to  be  repeating  the  like  o'  that  —  they  say  that  siller's 
like  to  be  scarce  wi'  Sir  Arthur  himsell,  and  that  he's 

148 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

run  himsell  out  o'  thought  wi'  his  houkings  and  minings 
for  lead  and  copper  yonder/ 

Isabella  had  some  anxious  anticipations  to  the  same 
effect,  but  was  shocked  to  hear  that  her  father's  embar- 
rassments were  such  public  talk;  as  if  scandal  ever  failed 
to  stoop  upon  so  acceptable  a  quarry  as  the  failings  of 
the  good  man,  the  decline  of  the  powerful,  or  the  decay 
of  the  prosperous.  Miss  Wardour  sighed  deeply.  'Well, 
Edie,  we  have  enough  to  pay  our  debts,  let  folks  say 
what  they  will,  and  requiting  you  is  one  of  the  foremost; 
let  me  press  this  sum  upon  you.' 

'That  I  might  be  robbed  and  murdered  some  night 
between  town  and  town?  or,  what 's  as  bad,  that  I 
might  live  in  constant  apprehension  o't?  I  am  no  (low- 
ering his  voice  to  a  whisper  and  looking  keenly  around 
him)  —  I  am  no  that  clean  unprovided  for  neither;  and 
though  I  should  die  at  the  back  of  a  dike,  they  '11  find  as 
muckle  quilted  in  this  auld  blue  gown  as  will  bury  me 
like  a  Christian,  and  gie  the  lads  and  lasses  a  blythe 
lyke-wake  too;  sae  there 's  the  gaberlunzie's  burial  pro- 
vided for,  and  I  need  nae  mair.  Were  the  like  o'  me  ever 
to  change  a  note,  wha  the  deil  d'  ye  think  wad  be  sic 
fules  as  to  gie  me  charity  after  that?  It  wad  flee  through 
the  country  like  wild  fire  that  auld  Edie  suld  hae  done 
siccan  a  like  thing,  and  then  I'se  warrant  I  might  grane 
my  heart  out  or  ony  body  wad  gie  me  either  a  bane  or 
a  bodle.' 

'Is  there  nothing,  then,  that  I  can  do  for  you?' 

'Ou  ay!  I'll  aye  come  for  my  awmous  as  usual;  and 
whiles  I  wad  be  fain  o'  a  pickle  sneeshin,  and  ye  maun 
speak  to  the  constable  and  ground-officer  just  to  ower- 
look  me,  and  maybe  ye '11  gie  a  gude  word  for  me  to 

149 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


Sandie  Netherstanes,  the  miller,  that  he  may  chain  up 
his  muckle  dog;  I  wadna  hae  him  to  hurt  the  puir  beast, 
for  it  just  does  its  ofl&ce  in  barking  at  a  gaberlunzie  hke 
me.  And  there's  ae  thing  maybe  mair,  but  ye '11  think 
it's  very  bauld  o'  the  like  o'  me  to  speak  o't.' 

'What  is  it,  Edie?  if  it  respects  you  it  shall  be  done,  if 
it  is  in  my  power.' 

*It  respects  yoursell,  and  it  is  in  your  power,  and  I 
maun  come  out  wi't.  Ye  are  a  bonny  young  leddy,  and  a 
gude  ane,  and  maybe  a  weel-tochered  ane;  but  dinna  ye 
sneer  awa  the  lad  Lovel,  as  ye  did  a  while  sinsyne  on  the 
walk  beneath  the  Brierybank,  when  I  saw  ye  baith,  and 
heard  ye  too,  though  ye  saw  nae  me.  Be  canny  wi'  the 
lad,  for  he  loes  ye  weel,  and  it 's  to  him,  and  no  to  ony 
thing  I  could  have  done  for  you,  that  Sir  Arthur  and  you 
wan  ower  yestreen.' 

He  uttered  these  words  in  a  low  but  distinct  tone 
of  voice;  and,  without  waiting  for  an  answer,  walked 
towards  a  low  door  which  led  to  the  apartments  of  the 
servants,  and  so  entered  the  house. 

Miss  Wardour  remained  for  a  moment  or  two  in  the 
situation  in  which  she  had  heard  the  old  man's  last  ex- 
traordinary speech,  leaning,  namely,  against  the  bars  of 
the  window,  nor  could  she  determine  upon  saying  even 
a  single  word  relative  to  a  subject  so  delicate  until  the 
beggar  was  out  of  sight.  It  was,  indeed,  difficult  to  de- 
termine what  to  do.  That  her  having  had  an  interview 
and  private  conversation  with  this  young  and  unknown 
stranger  should  be  a  secret  possessed  by  a  person  of  the 
last  class  in  which  a  young  lady  would  seek  a  confident, 
and  at  the  mercy  of  one  who  was  by  profession  gossip- 
general  to  the  whole  neighbourhood,  gave  her  acute 

ISO 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

agony.  She  had  no  reason,  indeed,  to  suppose  that  the 
old  man  would  wilfully  do  anything  to  hurt  her  feelings, 
much  less  to  injure  her;  but  the  mere  freedom  of  speak- 
ing to  her  upon  such  a  subject  showed,  as  might  have 
been  expected,  a  total  absence  of  delicacy;  and  what  he 
might  take  it  into  his  head  to  do  or  say  next,  that  she 
was  pretty  sure  so  professed  an  admirer  of  liberty  would 
not  hesitate  to  do  or  say  without  scruple.  This  idea  so 
much  hurt  and  vexed  her  that  she  half- wished  the  oflBi- 
cious  assistance  of  Lovel  and  Ochiltree  had  been  absent 
upon  the  preceding  evening. 

While  she  was  in  this  agitation  of  spirits,  she  suddenly 
observed  Oldbuck  and  Lovel  entering  the  court.  She 
drew  instantly  so  far  back  from  the  window  that  she 
could,  without  being  seen,  observe  how  the  Antiquary 
paused  in  front  of  the  building,  and,  pointing  to  the  va- 
rious scutcheons  of  its  former  owners,  seemed  in  the  act 
of  bestowing  upon  Lovel  much  curious  and  erudite  in- 
formation, which,  from  the  absent  look  of  his  auditor, 
Isabella  might  shrewdly  guess  was  entirely  thrown 
away.  The  necessity  that  she  should  take  some  resolu- 
tion became  instant  and  pressing;  she  rang,  therefore, 
for  a  servant,  and  ordered  him  to  show  the  visitors  to 
the  drawing-room,  while  she,  by  another  staircase, 
gained  her  own  apartment,  to  consider,  ere  she  made  her 
appearance,  what  line  of  conduct  were  fittest  for  her  to 
pursue.  The  guests,  agreeably  to  her  instructions,  were 
introduced  into  the  room  where  company  was  usually 
received. 


CHAPTER  XIII 


The  time  was  that  I  hated  thee, 
And  yet  it  is  not  that  I  bear  thee  love. 
Thy  company,  which  erst  was  irksome  to  me, 
I  will  endure  — 

But  do  not  look  for  further  recompense. 

As  You  Like  It. 

Miss  Isabella  Wardour's  complexion  was  considerably 
heightened  when,  after  the  delay  necessary  to  arrange 
her  ideas,  she  presented  herself  in  the  drawing-room. 

am  glad  you  are  come,  my  fair  foe,'  said  the  Anti- 
quary, greeting  her  with  much  kindness, '  for  I  have  had 
a  most  refractory,  or  at  least  negligent,  auditor,  in  my 
young  friend  here,  while  I  endeavoured  to  make  him  ac- 
quainted with  the  history  of  Knockwinnock  Castle.  I 
think  the  danger  of  last  night  has  mazed  the  poor  lad. 
But  you,  Miss  Isabel,  why,  you  look  as  if  flying  through 
the  night  air  had  been  your  natural  and  most  congenial 
occupation.  Your  colour  is  even  better  than  when  you 
honoured  my  hospitium  yesterday.  And  Sir  Arthur  — 
how  fares  my  good  old  friend?' 

'Indifferently  well,  Mr.  Oldbuck;  but,  I  am  afraid, 
not  quite  able  to  receive  your  congratulations,  or  to  pay 
—  to  pay  —  Mr.  Lovel  his  thanks  for  his  unparalleled 
exertions.' 

'  I  daresay  not.  A  good  down  pillow  for  his  good  white 
head  were  more  meet  than  a  couch  so  churlish  as  Bessy's 
Apron,  plague  on  her!' 

*I  had  no  thought  of  intruding,'  said  Lovel,  looking 
upon  the  ground,  and  speaking  with  hesitation  and  sup- 

152 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

pressed  emotion  —  'I  did  not  —  did  not  mean  to  in- 
trude upon  Sir  Arthur  or  Miss  Wardour  the  presence  of 
one  who  —  who  must  necessarily  be  unwelcome  —  as 
associated,  I  mean,  with  painful  reflections.' 

^Do  not  think  my  father  so  unjust  and  ungrateful,' 
said  Miss  Wardour.  daresay,'  she  continued,  partici- 
pating in  LoveFs  embarrassment  —  *I  daresay  —  I  am 
certain  —  that  my  father  would  be  happy  to  show  his 
gratitude  —  in  any  way,  that  is,  which  Mr.  Lovel  could 
consider  it  as  proper  to  point  out.' 

^Why,  the  deuce,' interrupted  Oldbuck,  'what  sort  of 
a  qualification  is  that?  On  my  word,  it  reminds  me  of 
our  minister,  who,  choosing,  like  a  formal  old  fop  as  he  is, 
to  drink  to  my  sister's  inclinations,  thought  it  necessary 
to  add  the  saving  clause,  "Provided,  madam,  they  be 
virtuous."  Come,  let  us  have  no  more  of  this  nonsense. 
I  daresay  Sir  Arthur  will  bid  us  welcome  on  some  future 
day.  And  what  news  from  the  kingdom  of  subterranean 
darkness  and  airy  hope?  What  says  the  swart  spirit  of 
the  mine?  Has  Sir  Arthur  had  any  good  inteUigence  of 
his  adventure  lately  in  Glen  Withershins? ' 

Miss  Wardour  shook  her  head  —  'But  indifferent,  I 
fear,  Mr.  Oldbuck;  but  there  lie  some  specimens  which 
have  lately  been  sent  down.' 

'Ah!  my  poor  dear  hundred  pounds,  which  Sir  Arthur 
persuaded  me  to  give  for  a  share  in  that  hopeful  scheme, 
would  have  bought  a  porter's  load  of  mineralogy.  But 
let  me  see  them.' 

And  so  saying,  he  sat  down  at  the  table  in  the  recess, 
on  which  the  mineral  productions  were  lying,  and  pro- 
ceeded to  examine  them,  grumbling  and  pshawing  at 
each  which  he  took  up  and  laid  aside. 

IS3 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


In  the  meantime  Lovel,  forced  as  it  were  by  this  seces- 
sion of  Oldbuck  into  a  sort  of  tete-d-tete  with  Miss  Ward- 
our,  took  an  opportunity  of  addressing  her  in  a  low  and 
interrupted  tone  of  voice.  *I  trust  Miss  Wardour  will 
impute  to  circumstances  almost  irresistible  this  intru- 
sion of  a  person  who  has  reason  to  think  himself  —  so 
unacceptable  a  visitor.' 

^Mr.  Lovel/  answered  Miss  Wardour,  observing  the 
same  tone  of  caution,  '  I  trust  you  will  not  —  I  am  sure 
you  are  incapable  of  abusing  the  advantages  given  to 
you  by  the  services  you  have  rendered  us,  which,  as  they 
affect  my  father,  can  never  be  sufficiently  acknowledged 
or  repaid.  Could  Mr.  Lovel  see  me  without  his  own 
peace  being  affected  —  could  he  see  me  as  a  friend  —  as 
a  sister  —  no  man  will  be  —  and,  from  all  I  have  ever 
heard  of  Mr.  Lovel,  ought  to  be  —  more  welcome; 
but 

Oldbuck's  anathema  against  the  preposition  'but' 
was  internally  echoed  by  Lovel.  *  Forgive  me  if  I 
interrupt  you,  Miss  Wardour.  You  need  not  fear  my 
intruding  upon  a  subject  where  I  have  been  already 
severely  repressed;  but  do  not  add  to  the  severity  of 
repelling  my  sentiments  the  rigour  of  obliging  me  to 
disavow  them.' 

'I  am  much  embarrassed,  Mr.  Lovel,'  replied  the 
young  lady,  'by  your  —  I  would  not  willingly  use  a 
strong  word  —  your  romantic  and  hopeless  pertinacity. 
It  is  for  yourself  I  plead,  that  you  would  consider  the 
calls  which  your  country  has  upon  your  talents,  that  you 
will  not  waste,  in  an  idle  and  fanciful  indulgence  of  an 
ill-placed  predilection,  time  which,  well  redeemed  by 
active  exertion,  should  lay  the  foundation  of  future  dis- 

154 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


tinction;  let  me  entreat  that  you  would  form  a  manly 
resolution  — ' 

^It  is  enough,  Miss  Wardour;  I  see  plainly  that — ' 

^Mr.  Lovel,  you  are  hurt,  and,  believe  me,  I  sympa- 
thise in  the  pain  which  I  inflict;  but  can  I,  in  justice  to 
myself,  in  fairness  to  you,  do  otherwise?  Without  my 
father's  consent  I  never  will  entertain  the  addresses  of 
any  one,  and  how  totally  impossible  it  is  that  he  should 
countenance  the  partiality  with  which  you  honour  me, 
you  are  yourself  fully  aware;  and,  indeed  — ' 

'No,  Miss  Wardour,'  answered  Lovel,  in  a  tone  of 
passionate  entreaty, '  do  not  go  farther — is  it  not  enough 
to  crush  every  hope  in  our  present  relative  situation?  — 
do  not  carry  your  resolutions  farther;  why  urge  what 
would  be  your  conduct  if  Sir  Arthur's  objections  could 
be  removed? ' 

'It  is  indeed  vain,  Mr.  Lovel,'  said  Miss  Wardour, 
'because  their  removal  is  impossible;  and  I  only  wish, 
as  your  friend,  and  as  one  who  is  obliged  to  you  for 
her  own  and  her  father's  life,  to  entreat  you  to  suppress 
this  unfortunate  attachment,  to  leave  a  country  which 
affords  no  scope  for  your  talents,  and  to  resume  the 
honourable  line  of  the  profession  which  you  seem  to 
have  abandoned.' 

'Well,  Miss  Wardour,  your  wishes  shall  be  obeyed. 
Have  patience  with  me  one  little  month,  and  if  in  the 
course  of  that  space  I  cannot  show  you  such  reasons  for 
continuing  my  residence  at  Fairport  as  even  you  shall 
approve  of,  I  will  bid  adieu  to  its  vicinity,  and  with  the 
same  breath  to  all  my  hopes  of  happiness.' 

'Not  so,  Mr.  Lovel;  many  years  of  deserved  happi- 
ness, founded  on  a  more  rational  basis  than  your  present 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


wishes,  are,  I  trust,  before  you.  But  it  is  full  time  to  fin- 
ish this  conversation.  I  cannot  force  you  to  adopt  my 
advice.  I  cannot  shut  the  door  of  my  father's  house 
against  the  preserver  of  his  Ufe  and  mine;  but  the  sooner 
Mr.  Lovel  can  teach  his  mind  to  submit  to  the  inevitable 
disappointment  of  wishes  which  have  been  so  rashly 
formed,  the  more  highly  he  will  rise  in  my  esteem;  and, 
in  the  meanwhile,  for  his  sake  as  well  as  mine,  he  must 
excuse  my  putting  an  interdict  upon  conversation  on  a 
subject  so  painful.' 

A  servant  at  this  moment  announced  that  Sir  Arthur 
desired  to  speak  with  Mr.  Oldbuck  in  his  dressing-room. 

^Let  me  show  you  the  way,'  said  Miss  Wardour,  who 
apparently  dreaded  a  continuation  of  her  tete-d4ete  w^h 
Lovel,  and  she  conducted  the  Antiquary  accordingly  to 
her  father's  apartment. 

Sir  Arthur,  his  legs  swathed  in  flannel,  was  stretched 
on  the  couch.  ^Welcome,  Mr.  Oldbuck,'  he  said; 
trust  you  have  come  better  off  than  I  have  done  from 
the  inclemency  of  yesterday  evening?' 

'Truly,  Sir  Arthur,  I  was  not  so  much  exposed  to  it: 
I  kept  terra  firma;  you  fairly  committed  yourself  to  the 
cold  night-air  in  the  most  literal  of  all  senses.  But 
such  adventures  become  a  gallant  knight  better  than 
a  humble  esquire  —  to  rise  on  the  wings  of  the  night- 
wind,  to  dive  into  the  bowels  of  the  earth.  What  news 
from  our  subterranean  Good  Hope  —  the  terra  incog- 
nita  of  Glen  Withershins? ' 

'Nothing  good  as  yet,'  said  the  Baronet,  turning  him- 
self hastily,  as  if  stung  by  a  pang  of  the  gout;  'but 
Dousterswivel  does  not  despair.' 

'Does  he  not?'  quoth  Oldbuck;  'I  do  though,  under 

156 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


his  favour.  Why,  old  Dr.  H  told  me,  when  I 

was  in  Edinburgh,  that  we  should  never  find  copper 
enough,  judging  from  the  specimens  I  showed  him,  to 
make  a  pair  of  sixpenny  knee-buckles;  and  I  cannot  see 
that  those  samples  on  the  table  below  differ  much  in 
quality.' 

'The  learned  doctor  is  not  infallible,  I  presume?' 

'  No ;  but  he  is  one  of  our  first  chemists ;  and  this  tramp- 
ing philosopher  of  yours,  this  Dousterswivel,  is,  I  have 
a  notion,  one  of  those  learned  adventurers  described  by 
Kircher,  Artem  habent  sine  artCj  partem  sine  parte ^  quo- 
rum  medium  est  mentiriy  vita  eorum  mendicatum  ire;  that 
is  to  say.  Miss  Wardour  — ' 

'It  is  unnecessary  to  translate,'  said  Miss  Wardour, 
'I  comprehend  your  general  meaning;  but  I  hope  Mr. 
Dousterswivel  will  turn  out  a  more  trustworthy  char- 
acter.' 

'I  doubt  it  not  a  little,'  said  the  Antiquary,  'and  we 
are  a  foul  way  out  if  we  cannot  discover  this  infernal 
vein  that  he  has  prophesied  about  these  two  years.' 

'  You  have  no  great  interest  in  the  matter,  Mr.  Old- 
buck,'  said  the  Baronet. 

'Too  much,  too  much,  Sir  Arthur;  and  yet,  for  the 
sake  of  my  fair  foe  here,  I  would  consent  to  lose  it  all  so 
you  had  no  more  on  the  venture.' 

There  was  a  painful  silence  of  a  few  moments,  for  Sir 
Arthur  was  too  proud  to  acknowledge  the  downfall  of 
his  golden  dreams,  though  he  could  no  longer  disguise 
to  himself  that  such  was  Ukely  to  be  the  termination  of 
the  adventure.  *  I  understand,'  he  at  length  said,  'that 
the  young  gentleman  to  whose  gallantry  and  presence  of 

^  Probably  Dr.  Hutton,  the  celebrated  geologist. 

157 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


mind  we  were  so  much  indebted  last  night  has  favoured 
me  with  a  visit;  I  am  distressed  that  I  am  unable  to  see 
him,  or  indeed  any  one  but  an  old  friend  like  you,  Mr. 
Oldbuck/ 

A  declination  of  the  Antiquary's  stiff  backbone  ac- 
knowledged the  preference. 

*  You  made  acquaintance  with  this  young  gentleman 
in  Edinburgh,  I  suppose? ' 

Oldbuck  told  the  circimistances  of  their  becoming 
known  to  each  other. 

*  Why,  then,  my  daughter  is  an  older  acquaintance  of 
Mr.  Lovel  than  you  are,'  said  the  Baronet. 

'Indeed!  I  was  not  aware  of  that,'  answered  Oldbuck, 
somewhat  surprised. 

'I  met  Mr.  Lovel,'  said  Isabella,  slightly  colouring, 
'  *when  I  resided  this  last  spring  with  my  aunt,  Mrs. 
Wilmot.' 

'In  Yorkshire?  and  what  character  did  he  bear  then, 
or  how  was  he  engaged?'  said  Oldbuck;  'and  why  did 
not  you  recognise  him  when  I  introduced  you?' 

Isabella  answered  the  least  difficult  question,  and 
passed  over  the  other.  'He  had  a  commission  in  the 
army,  and  had,  I  believe,  served  with  reputation;  he 
was  much  respected  as  an  amiable  and  promising  young 
man.' 

'And  pray,  such  being  the  case,'  replied  the  Anti- 
quary, not  disposed  to  take  one  reply  in  answer  to  two 
distinct  questions,  'why  did  you  not  speak  to  the  lad 
at  once  when  you  met  him  at  my  house?  I  thought  you 
e>^  had  less  of  the  paltry  pride  of  womankind  about  you, 
Miss  Wardour.' 

'There  was  a  reason  for  it,'  said  Sir  Arthur,  with  dig- 

158 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


nity ;  'you  know  the  opinions  —  prejudices,  perhaps  you 
will  call  them  —  of  our  house  concerning  purity  of  birth. 
This  young  gentleman  is,  it  seems,  the  illegitimate  son 
of  a  man  of  fortune;  my  daughter  did  not  choose  to 
renew  their  acquaintance  till  she  should  know  whether 
I  approved  of  her  holding  any  intercourse  with  him.' 

*If  it  had  been  with  his  mother  instead  of  himself,' 
answered  Oldbuck,  with  his  usual  dry  causticity  of 
humour,  ^  I  could  see  an  excellent  reason  for  it.  Ah,  poor 
lad!  that  was  the  cause  then  that  he  seemed  so  absent 
and  confused  while  I  explained  to  him  the  reason  of  the 
bend  of  bastardy  upon  the  shield  yonder  under  the 
corner  turret!' 

'True,'  said  the  Baronet  with  complacency,  'it  is  the 
shield  of  Malcolm  the  Usurper,  as  he  is  called.  The 
tower  which  he  built  is  termed,  after  him,  Malcolm's 
Tower,  but  more  frequently  Misticot's  Tower,  which 
I  conceive  to  be  a  corruption  for  '^Misbegot."  He  is 
denominated,  in  the  Latin  pedigree  of  our  family,  Mil- 
columhus  Nothus;  and  his  temporary  seizure  of  our  prop- 
erty, and  most  unjust  attempt  to  estabhsh  his  own  ille- 
gitimate hne  in  the  estate  of  Knockwinnock,  gave  rise 
to  such  family  feuds  and  misfortunes  as  strongly  to 
found  us  in  that  horror  and  antipathy  to  defiled  blood 
and  illegitimacy  which  has  been  handed  down  to  me 
from  my  respected  ancestry.' 

^  'I  know  the  story,'  said  Oldbuck,  'and  I  was  telhng  it 
to  Lovel  this  moment,  with  some  of  the  wise  maxims 
and  consequences  which  it  has  engrafted  on  your  fam- 
ily politics.  Poor  fellow!  he  must  have  been  much 
hurt;  I  took  the  wavering  of  his  attention  for  negligence, 
and  was  something  piqued  at  it,  and  it  proves  to  be  only 

159 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


an  excess  of  feeling.  I  hope,  Sir  Arthur,  you  will  not 
think  the  less  of  your  Ufe  because  it  has  been  preserved 
by  such  assistance? ' 

^Nor  the  less  of  my  assistant  either,'  said  the  Baronet; 
'my  doors  and  table  shall  be  equally  open  to  him  as  if  he 
had  descended  of  the  most  unblemished  Hneage.' 

*  Come,  I  am  glad  of  that;  he  '11  know  where  he  can  get 
a  dinner,  then,  if  he  wants  one.  But  what  views  can  he 
have  in  this  neighbourhood?  I  must  catechise  him ;  and  if 
I  find  he  wants  it  —  or,  indeed,  whether  he  does  or  not  — 
he  shall  have  my  best  advice.'  As  the  Antiquary  made 
this  liberal  promise,  he  took  his  leave  of  Miss  Wardour 
and  her  father,  eager  to  commence  operations  upon  Mr. 
Lovel.  He  informed  him  abruptly  that  Miss  Wardour 
sent  her  compKments,  and  remained  in  attendance  on 
her  father,  and  then,  taking  him  by  the  arm,  he  led  him 
out  of  the  castle. 

Knockwinnock  still  preserved  much  of  the  external 
attributes  of  a  baronial  castle.  It  had  its  drawbridge, 
though  now  never  drawn  up,  and  its  dry  moat,  the  sides 
of  which  had  been  planted  with  shrubs,  chiefly  of  the 


i>l&4yt-      evergreen  tribes.  Above  these  rose  the  old  building, 


partly  from  a  foundation  of  red  rock  scarped  down  to 
the  sea-beach,  and  partly  from  the  steep  green  verge  of 
the  moat.  The  trees  of  the  avenue  have  been  already 
mentioned,  and  many  others  rose  around  of  large  size,  as 
if  to  confute  the  prejudice  that  timber  cannot  be  raised 
near  to  the  ocean.  Our  walkers  paused  and  looked  back 
upon  the  castle  as  they  attained  the  height  of  a  small 
knoll,  over  which  lay  their  homeward  road,  for  it  is  to  be 
supposed  they  did  not  tempt  the  risk  of  the  tide  by  re- 
turning along  the  sands.  The  building  flung  its  broad 


i6o 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


shadow  upon  the  tufted  foliage  of  the  shrubs  beneath  it, 
while  the  front  windows  sparkled  in  the  sun.  They  were 
viewed  by  the  gazers  with  very  different  feelings.  Lovel, 
with  the  fond  eagerness  of  that  passion  which  derives  its 
food  and  nourishment  from  trifles,  as  the  cameleon  is 
said  to  live  on  the  air,  or  upon  the  invisible  insects  which 
it  contains,  endeavoured  to  conjecture  which  of  the 
numerous  windows  belonged  to  the  apartment  now 
graced  by  Miss  Wardour's  presence.  The  speculations 
of  the  Antiquary  were  of  a  more  melancholy  cast,  and 
were  partly  indicated  by  the  ejaculation  of  ^  Cito  peri- 
tura  / '  as  he  turned  away  from  the  prospect.  Lovel, 
roused  from  his  reverie,  looked  at  him  as  if  to  inquire  the 
meaning  of  an  exclamation  so  ominous.  The  old  man 
shook  his  head.  ^Yes,  my  young  friend,'  said  he,  'I 
doubt  greatly  —  and  it  wrings  my  heart  to  say  it  — 
this  ancient  family  is  going  fast  to  the  ground!' 

*  Indeed ! '  answered  Lovel.  '  You  surprise  me  greatly ! ' 

*We  harden  ourselves  in  vain,'  continued  the  Anti- 
quary, pursuing  his  own  train  of  thought  and  feeling  — 
'we  harden  ourselves  in  vain  to  treat  with  the  indiffer- 
ence they  deserve  the  changes  of  this  trumpery  whirligig 
world.  We  strive  ineffectually  to  be  the  self-sufficing 
invulnerable  being,  the  teres  atque  rotundus  of  the  poet; 
the  stoical  exemption  which  philosophy  affects  to  give 
us  over  the  pains  and  vexations  of  human  life  is  as  im- 
aginary as  the  state  of  mystical  quietism  and  perfection 
aimed  at  by  some  crazy  enthusiasts.' 

*And  Heaven  forbid  that  it  should  be  otherwise!'  said 
Lovel,  warmly  —  *  Heaven  forbid  that  any  process  of 
philosophy  were  capable  so  to  sear  and  indurate  our 
feelings  that  nothing  should  agitate  them  but  what 
5  i6i 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


arose  instantly  and  immediately  out  of  our  own  selfish 
interests !  I  would  as  soon  wish  my  hand  to  be  as  callous 
as  horn,  that  it  might  escape  an  occasional  cut  or  scratch, 
as  I  would  be  ambitious  of  the  stoicism  which  should 
render  my  heart  like  a  piece  of  the  nether  millstone.' 

The  Antiquary  regarded  his  youthful  companion  with 
a  look  half  of  pity,  half  of  sympathy,  and  shrugged  up 
his  shoulders  as  he  replied,  ^Wait,  young  man  —  wait 
till  your  bark  has  been  battered  by  the  storm  of  sixty 
years  of  mortal  vicissitude;  you  will  learn  by  that  time 
to  reef  your  sails,  that  she  may  obey  the  helm;  or,  in  the 
language  of  this  world,  you  will  find  distresses  enough, 
endured  and  to  endure,  to  keep  your  feelings  and 
sympathies  in  full  exercise,  without  concerning  yourself 
more  in  the  fate  of  others  than  you  cannot  possibly 
avoid.' 

'Well,  Mr.  Oldbuck,  it  may  be  so;  but  as  yet  I  resem- 
ble you  more  in  your  practice  than  in  your  theory,  for 
I  cannot  help  being  deeply  interested  in  the  fate  of 
the  family  we  have  just  left.' 

'And  well  you  may,'  replied  Oldbuck;  'Sir  Arthur's 
embarrassments  have  of  late  become  so  many  and  so 
pressing  that  I  am  surprised  you  have  not  heard  of 
them.  And  then  his  absurd  and  expensive  operations 
carried  on  by  this  High-German  land-louper,  Douster- 
swivel  — ' 

'I  think  I  have  seen  that  person,  when  by  some  rare 
chance  I  happened  to  be  in  the  coffee-room  at  Fair- 
port  —  a  tall,  beetle-browed,  awkward-built  man,  who 
entered  upon  scientific  subjects,  as  it  appeared  to  my 
ignorance  at  least,  with  more  assurance  than  knowledge, 
was  very  arbitrary  in  laying  down  and  asserting  his 

162 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

opinions,  and  mixed  the  terms  of  science  with  a  strange 
jargon  of  mysticism ;  a  simple  youth  whispered  me  that 
he  was  an  Illumine^  and  carried  on  an  intercourse  with 
the  invisible  world.' 

the  same  —  the  same;  he  has  enough  of  practical 
knowledge  to  speak  scholarly  and  wisely  to  those  of 
whose  intelligence  he  stands  in  awe;  and,  to  say  the 
truth,  this  faculty,  joined  to  his  matchless  impudence, 
imposed  upon  me  for  some  time  when  I  first  knew  him. 
But  I  have  since  understood  that,  when  he  is  among  fools 
and  womankind,  he  exhibits  himself  as  a  perfect  charla- 
tan —  talks  of  the  magisterium,  of  sympathies  and  anti- 
pathies, of  the  cabala,  of  the  divining  rod,  and  all  the 
trumpery  with  which  the  Rosicrucians  cheated  a  darker 
age,  and  which,  to  our  eternal  disgrace,  has  in  some 
degree  revived  in  our  own.  My  friend  Heavysterne 
knew  this  fellow  abroad,  and  unintentionally  —  for  he, 
you  must  know,  is,  God  bless  the  mark,  a  sort  of  believer 
—  let  me  into  a  good  deal  of  his  real  character.  Ah ! 
were  I  caHph  for  a  day,  as  honest  Abou  Hassan  wished 
to  be,  I  would  scourge  me  these  jugglers  out  of  the  com- 
monwealth with  rods  of  scorpions.  They  debauch  the 
spirit  of  the  ignorant  and  credulous  with  mystical  trash 
as  effectually  as  if  they  had  besotted  their  brains  with 
gin,  and  then  pick  their  pockets  with  the  same  facility. 
And  now  has  this  strolling  blackguard  and  mountebank 
put  the  finishing  blow  to  the  ruin  of  an  ancient  and  hon- 
ourable family!' 

^But  how  could  he  impose  upon  Sir  Arthur  to  any 
ruinous  extent?' 

'Why,  I  don't  know;  Sir  Arthur  is  a  good  honourable 
gentleman,  but,  as  you  may  see  from  his  loose  ideas  con- 

163 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


ceming  the  Pikish  language,  he  is  by  no  means  very 
c!^^  strong  in  the  understanding.  His  estate  is  strictly  en- 
tailed, and  he  has  been  always  an  embarrassed  man. 
This  rapparee  promised  him  mountains  of  wealth,  and 
an  English  company  was  found  to  advance  large  sums 
of  money  —  I  fear  on  Sir  Arthur's  guarantee.  Some 
gentlemen  —  I  was  ass  enough  to  be  one  —  took  small 
shares  in  the  concern,  and  Sir  Arthur  himself  made 
great  outlay;  we  were  trained  on  by  specious  appear- 
ances and  more  specious  lies,  and  now,  like  John  Bun- 
yan,  we  awake  and  behold  it  is  a  dream.' 

am  surprised  that  you,  Mr.  Oldbuck,  should  have 
encouraged  Sir  Arthur  by  your  example.' 

*  Why,'  said  Oldbuck,  dropping  his  large  grizzled  eye- 
brow, ^  I  am  something  surprised  and  ashamed  at  it  my- 
self. It  was  not  the  lucre  of  gain:  nobody  cares  less  for 
money,  to  be  a  prudent  man,  than  I  do;  but  I  thought  I 
might  risk  this  small  sum.  It  will  be  expected,  though  I 
am  sure  I  cannot  see  why,  that  I  should  give  something 
to  any  one  who  will  be  kind  enough  to  rid  me  of  that 
slip  of  womankind,  my  niece,  Mary  M'Intyre;  and  per- 
haps it  may  be  thought  I  should  do  something  to  get 
that  jackanapes,  her  brother,  on  in  the  army.  In  either 
case,  to  treble  my  venture  would  have  helped  me  out. 
And,  besides,  I  had  some  idea  that  the  Phoenicians  had 
in  former  times  wrought  copper  in  that  very  spot.  That 
cunning  scoundrel,  Dousterswivel,  found  out  my  blunt 
side,  and  brought  strange  tales,  d — n  him!  of  appear- 
ances of  old  shafts,  and  vestiges  of  mining  operations, 
conducted  in  a  manner  quite  different  from  those  of 
modern  times;  and  I  —  in  short,  I  was  a  fool,  and  there 
is  an  end.  My  loss  is  not  much  worth  speaking  about; 

164 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

but  Sir  Arthur's  engagements  are,  I  understand,  very 
deep,  and  my  heart  aches  for  him,  and  the  poor  young 
lady  who  must  share  his  distress/ 

Here  the  conversation  paused,  until  renewed  in  the 
next  chapter. 


CHAPTER  XIV 


If  I  may  trust  the  flattering  eye  of  sleep, 

My  dreams  presage  some  joyful  news  at  hand. 
My  bosom's  lord  sits  lightly  on  his  throne. 
And  all  this  day  an  unaccustom'd  spirit 
Lifts  me  above  the  ground  with  cheerful  thoughts. 

Romeo  and  Juliet, 

The  account  of  Sir  Arthur's  unhappy  adventure  had  led 
Oldbuck  somewhat  aside  from  his  purpose  of  catechising 
Lovel  concerning  the  cause  of  his  residence  at  Fairport. 
He  was  now,  however,  resolved  to  open  the  subject. 
^  Miss  Wardour  was  formerly  known  to  you,  she  tells  me, 
Mr.  Lovel?' 

' He  had  had  the  pleasure,'  Lovel  answered,  ^  to  see  her 
at  Mrs.  Wilmot's,  in  Yorkshire.' 

^  Indeed !  you  never  mentioned  that  to  me  before,  and 
you  did  not  accost  her  as  an  old  acquaintance.' 

—  I  did  not  know,'  said  Lovel,  a  good  deal  em- 
barrassed, *it  was  the  same  lady  till  we  met;  and  then 
it  was  my  duty  to  wait  till  she  should  recognise  me.' 

am  aware  of  your  dehcacy ;  the  knight 's  a  punctili- 
ous old  fool,  but  I  promise  you  his  daughter  is  above  all 
nonsensical  ceremony  and  prejudice.  And  now,  since 
you  have  found  a  new  set  of  friends  here,  may  I  ask  if 
you  intend  to  leave  Fairport  as  soon  as  you  proposed?' 

^What  if  I  should  answer  your  question  by  another,' 
replied  Lovel,  ^and  ask  you  what  is  your  opinion  of 
dreams?' 

^  Of  dreams,  you  foolish  lad !  why,  what  should  I  think 
<S{^  06         ^£  t;hem  but  as  the  deceptions  of  imagination  when 

166 


THE  antiquary; 

reason  drops  the  reins?  I  know  no  difference  betwixt 
them  and  the  hallucinations  of  madness:  the  unguided 
horses  run  away  with  the  carriage  in  both  cases,  only  in 
the  one  the  coachman  is  drunk,  and  in  the  other  he 
slumbers.  What  says  our  Marcus  TuUius  —  Si  insano- 
rum  visis  fides  non  est  habenda^  cur  credatur  somnientium 
visis,  quce  multo  etiam  perturbatiora  sunt,  non  intelligo.^ 

^  Yes,  sir,  but  Cicero  also  tells  us,  that  as  he  who  passes 
the  whole  day  in  darting  the  javelin  must  sometimes  hit 
the  mark,  so,  amid  the  cloud  of  nightly  dreams,  some 
may  occur  consonant  to  future  events.' 
I  ^  Ay  —  that  is  to  say,  you  have  hit  the  mark  in  your 
own  sage  opinion?  Lord!  Lord!  how  this  world  is  given 
to  folly!  Well,  I  will  allow  for  once  the  oneirocritical 
science  —  I  will  give  faith  to  the  exposition  of  dreams, 
and  say  a  Daniel  hath  arisen  to  interpret  them,  if  you 
can  prove  to  me  that  that  dream  of  yours  has  pointed  to 
a  prudent  Hne  of  conduct.' 

'Tell  me  then,'  answered  Lovel,' why,  when  I  was  hes- 
itating whether  to  abandon  an  enterprise  which  I  have 
perhaps  rashly  undertaken,  I  should  last  night  dream  I 
saw  your  ancestor  pointing  to  a  motto  which  encouraged 
me  to  perseverance?  Why  should  I  have  thought  of 
those  words,  which  I  cannot  remember  to  have  heard 
before,  which  are  in  a  language  unknown  to  me,  and 
which  yet  conveyed,  when  translated,  a  lesson  which  I 
could  so  plainly  apply  to  my  own  circumstances? ' 

The  Antiquary  burst  into  a  fit  of  laughing.  '  Excuse 
me,  my  young  friend,  but  it  is  thus  we  silly  mortals  de- 
ceive ourselves,  and  look  out  of  doors  for  motives  which 
originate  in  our  own  wilful  will.  I  think  I  can  help  out 
the  cause  of  your  vision.  You  were  so  abstracted  in  your 

167 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


contemplations  yesterday  after  dinner  as  to  pay  little 
attention  to  the  discourse  between  Sir  Arthur  and  me, 
until  we  fell  upon  the  controversy  concerning  the  Piks, 
which  terminated  so  abruptly;  but  I  remember  produc- 
ing to  Sir  Arthur  a  book  printed  by  my  ancestor,  and 
making  him  observe  the  motto.  Your  mind  was  bent 
elsewhere,  but  your  ear  had  mechanically  received  and 
retained  the  sounds,  and  your  busy  fancy,  stirred  by 
GrizePs  legend,  I  presume,  had  introduced  this  scrap  of 
German  into  your  dream.  As  for  the  waking  wisdom 
which  seized  on  so  frivolous  a  circumstance  as  an 
apology  for  persevering  in  some  course  which  it  could 
find  no  better  reason  to  justify,  it  is  exactly  one  of  those 
juggling  tricks  which  the  sagest  of  us  play  off  now  and 
then  to  gratify  our  incHnation  at  the  expense  of  our 
understanding.' 

*I  own  it,'  said  Lovel,  blushing  deeply;  'I  believe  you 
are  right,  Mr.  Oldbuck,  and  I  ought  to  sink  in  your  es- 
teem for  attaching  a  moment's  consequence  to  such  a 
frivolity;  but  I  was  tossed  by  contradictory  wishes  and 
resolutions,  and  you  know  how  slight  a  line  will  tow  a 
boat  when  afloat  on  the  billows,  though  a  cable  would 
hardly  move  her  when  pulled  up  on  the  beach.' 

^ Right,  right,'  exclaimed  the  Antiquary;  *fall  in  my 
opinion!  not  a  whit.  I  love  thee  the  better,  man;  why, 
we  have  story  for  story  against  each  other,  and  I  can 
think  with  less  shame  on  having  exposed  myself  about 
that  cursed  pmtorium,  though  I  am  still  convinced 
Agricola's  camp  must  have  been  somewhere  in  this 
neighbourhood.  And  now,  Lovel,  my  good  lad,  be  sin- 
cere with  me.  "What  make  you  from  Wittenberg?" 
Why  have  you  left  your  own  country  and  professional 

i68 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

pursuits  for  an  idle  residence  in  such  a  place  as  Fairport? 
A  truant  disposition,  I  fear.' 

'Even  so/  replied  Lovel,  patiently  submitting  to  an 
interrogatory  which  he  could  not  well  evade;  'yet  I  am 
so  detached  from  all  the  world,  have  so  few  in  whom  I 
am  interested,  or  who  are  interested  in  me,  that  my  very 
state  of  destitution  gives  me  independence.  He  whose 
good  or  evil  fortune  affects  himself  alone  has  the  best 
right  to  pursue  it  according  to  his  own  fancy.' 

'Pardon  me,  young  man,'  said  Oldbuck,  laying  his 
hand  kindly  on  his  shoulder,  and  making  a  full  halt; 
^sufflamina  —  a  little  patience  if  you  please.  I  will  sup- 
pose that  you  have  no  friends  to  share  or  rejoice  in  your 
success  in  Hfe,  that  you  cannot  look  back  to  those  to 
whom  you  owe  gratitude,  or  forward  to  those  to  whom 
you  ought  to  afford  protection;  but  it  is  no  less  incum- 
bent on  you  to  move  steadily  in  the  path  of  duty,  for 
your  active  exertions  are  due  not  only  to  society,  but  in 
humble  gratitude  to  the  Being  who  made  you  a  member 
of  it,  with  powers  to  serve  yourself  and  others.' 

'But  I  am  unconscious  of  possessing  such  powers,' 
said  Lovel,  somewhat  impatiently;  'I  ask  nothing  of  so- 
ciety but  the  permission  of  walking  innoxiously  through 
the  path  of  life  without  jostling  others,  or  permitting 
myself  to  be  jostled.  I  owe  no  man  anything,  I  have  the 
means  of  maintaining  myself  with  complete  independ- 
ence, and  so  moderate  are  my  wishes  in  this  respect  that 
even  these  means,  however  limited,  rather  exceed  than 
fall  short  of  them.' 

'Nay,  then,'  said  Oldbuck,  removing  his  hand,  and 
turning  again  to  the  road,  '  if  you  are  so  true  a  philoso- 
pher as  to  think  you  have  money  enough,  there 's  no 

169 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


more  to  be  said;  I  cannot  pretend  to  be  entitled  to  ad- 
vise you:  you  have  attained  the  acme  —  the  summit  of 
perfection.  And  how  came  Fairport  to  be  the  selected 
abode  of  so  much  self-denying  philosophy?  It  is  as  if  a 
worshipper  of  the  true  religion  had  set  up  his  staff  by 
choice  among  the  multifarious  idolaters  of  the  land  of 
Egypt.  There  is  not  a  man  in  Fairport  who  is  not  a  de- 
voted worshipper  of  the  Golden  Calf  —  the  Mammon 
of  unrighteousness;  why,  even  I,  man,  am  so  infected  by 
the  bad  neighbourhood  that  I  feel  inclined  occasionally 
to  become  an  idolater  myself.' 

'My  principal  amusements  being  literary,'  answered 
Lovel, '  and  circumstances  which  I  cannot  mention  hav- 
ing induced  me,  for  a  time  at  least,  to  reUnquish  the 
military  service,  I  have  pitched  on  Fairport  as  a  place 
where  I  might  follow  my  pursuits  without  any  of  those 
temptations  to  society  which  a  more  elegant  circle 
might  have  presented  to  me.' 

'  Aha! '  repKed  Oldbuck,  knowingly,  *  I  begin  to  under- 
stand your  application  of  my  ancestor's  motto:  you  are 
a  candidate  for  pubHc  favour,  though  not  in  the  way  I 
first  suspected;  you  are  ambitious  to  shine  as  a  literary 
character,  and  you  hope  to  merit  favour  by  labour  and 
perseverance? ' 

Lovel,  who  was  rather  closely  pressed  by  the  inquis- 
itiveness  of  the  old  gentleman,  concluded  it  would  be 
best  to  let  him  remain  in  the  error  which  he  had  gratui- 
tously adopted. 

'I  have  been  at  times  foolish  enough,'  he  replied,  Ho 
nourish  some  thoughts  of  the  kind.' 

'Ah,  poor  fellow!  nothing  can  be  more  melancholy; 
unless,  as  young  men  sometimes  do,  you  had  fancied 

170 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


yourself  in  love  with  some  trumpery  specimen  of 
womankind,  which  is,  indeed,  as  Shakspeare  truly 
says,  pressing  to  death,  whipping,  and  hanging  all  at 
once.' 

He  then  proceeded  with  inquiries,  which  he  was  some- 
times kind  enough  to  answer  himself.  For  this  good  old 
gentleman  had,  from  his  antiquarian  researches,  ac- 
quired a  delight  in  building  theories  out  of  premises 
which  were  often  far  from  affording  sufficient  ground  for 
them;  and  being,  as  the  reader  must  have  remarked, 
sufficiently  opinionative,  he  did  not  readily  brook  being 
corrected,  either  in  matter  of  fact  or  judgment,  even  by 
those  who  were  principally  interested  in  the  subjects  on 
which  he  speculated.  He  went  on,  therefore,  chalking 
out  LoveFs  literary  career  for  him. 

'And  with  what  do  you  propose  to  commence  your 
debut  as  a  man  of  letters?  But  I  guess  —  poetry  — 
poetry,  the  soft  seducer  of  youth.  Yes!  there  is  an 
acknowledging  modesty  of  confusion  in  your  eye  and 
manner.  And  where  lies  your  vein?  Are  you  inchned 
to  soar  to  the  higher  regions  of  Parnassus,  or  to  flutter 
around  the  base  of  the  hill?' 

'I  have  hitherto  attempted  only  a  few  lyrical  pieces,' 
said  Lovel. 

'Just  as  I  supposed  —  pruning  your  wing  and  hopping 
from  spray  to  spray.  But  I  trust  you  intend  a  bolder 
flight.  Observe,  I  would  by  no  means  recommend  your 
persevering  in  this  unprofitable  pursuit,  but  you  say 
you  are  quite  independent  of  the  public  caprice?' 

'Entirely  so,'  replied  Lovel. 

'And  that  you  are  determined  not  to  adopt  a  more 
active  course  of  life?' 


171 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


^For  the  present  such  is  my  resolution/  replied  the 
young  man. 

'Why,  then,  it  only  remains  for  me  to  give  you  my 
best  advice  and  assistance  in  the  object  of  your  pursuit. 
I  have  myself  published  two  essays  in  the  '^Antiquarian 
Repository,"  and  therefore  am  an  author  of  experience. 
There  was  my Remarks  on  Hearne's  Edition  of  Robert 
of  Gloucester,''  signed  Scrutator" ;  and  the  other  signed 
'^Indagator,"  upon  a  passage  in  Tacitus.  I  might  add, 
what  attracted  considerable  notice  at  the  time,  and  that 
is  my  paper  in  the  Gentleman's  Magazine"  upon  the 
inscription  of  (Elia  Lelia,  which  I  subscribed  "  (Edipus." 
So  you  see  I  am  not  an  apprentice  in  the  mysteries 
of  author-craft,  and  must  necessarily  understand  the 
taste  and  temper  of  the  times.  And  now,  once  more, 
what  do  you  intend  to  commence  with?' 

'I  have  no  instant  thoughts  of  pubHshing.' 

*  Ah!  that  will  never  do;  you  must  have  the  fear  of  the 
public  before  your  eyes  in  all  your  undertakings.  Let  us 
see  now.  A  collection  of  fugitive  pieces?  But  no,  your 
fugitive  poetry  is  apt  to  become  stationary  with  the 
bookseller.  It  should  be  something  at  once  solid  and 
attractive;  none  of  your  romances  or  anomalous  novel- 
ties, I  would  have  you  take  high  ground  at  once.  Let 
me  see.  What  think  you  of  a  real  epic?  the  grand  old- 
fashioned  historical  poem  which  moved  through  twelve 
or  twenty-four  books.  We'll  have  it  so;  I'll  supply  you 
with  a  subject  —  the  battle  between  the  Caledonians 
and  Romans  —  "The  Caledoniad;  or.  Invasion  Re- 
pelled." Let  that  be  the  title;  it  will  suit  the  present 
taste,  and  you  may  throw  in  a  touch  of  the  times.' 

'But  the  invasion  of  Agricola  was  not  repelled.' 
172 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


'No;  but  you  are  a  poet,  free  of  the  corporation,  and 
as  little  bound  down  to  truth  or  probability  as  Virgil 
himself.  You  may  defeat  the  Romans  in  spite  of  Taci- 
tus.' 

'And  pitch  Agricola's  camp  at  the  Kaim  of —  what 
do  you  call  it/  answered  Lovel,  'in  defiance  of  Edie 
Ochiltree?' 

'No  more  of  that,  an  thou  lovest  me.  And  yet  I  dare- 
say ye  may  unwittingly  speak  most  correct  truth  in  both 
instances,  in  despite  of  the  toga  of  the  historian  and  the 
blue  gown  of  the  mendicant.' 

'Gallantly  counselled.  Well,  I  will  do  my  best;  your 
kindness  will  assist  me  with  local  information.' 

'Will  I  not,  man?  why,  I  will  write  the  critical  and 
historical  notes  on  each  canto,  and  draw  out  the  plan  of 
the  story  myself.  I  pretend  to  some  poetical  genius, 
Mr.  Lovel,  only  I  was  never  able  to  write  verses.' 

'It  is  a  pity,  sir,  that  you  should  have  failed  in  a 
qualification  somewhat  essential  to  the  art.' 

'Essential!  not  a  whit:  it  is  the  mere  mechanical  de-  ^^^^T 
partment.  A  man  may  be  a  poet  without  measuring 
spondees  and  dactyls  like  the  ancients,  or  clashing  the 
ends  of  lines  into  rhyme  Uke  the  moderns,  as  one  may 
be  an  architect  though  unable  to  labour  like  a  stone- 
mason. Dost  think  Palladio  or  Vitruvius  ever  carried 
a  hod?' 

'In  that  case  there  should  be  two  authors  to  each 
poem  —  one  to  think  and  plan,  another  to  execute.' 

'Why,  it  would  not  be  amiss,  at  any  rate  we'll  make 
the  experiment  —  not  that  I  would  wish  to  give  my 
name  to  the  public.  Assistance  from  a  learned  friend 
might  be  acknowledged  in  the  preface  after  what  flour- 

173 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


ish  your  nature  will;  I  am  a  total  stranger  to  authorial 
vanity.' 

Lovel  was  much  entertained  by  a  declaration  not 
very  consistent  with  the  eagerness  wherewith  his  friend 
seemed  to  catch  at  an  opportunity  of  coming  before 
the  public,  though  in  a  manner  which  rather  resembled 
stepping  up  behind  a  carriage  than  getting  into  one. 
The  Antiquary  was,  indeed,  uncommonly  delighted;  for, 
like  many  other  men  who  spend  their  lives  in  obscure 
literary  research,  he  had  a  secret  ambition  to  appear 
in  print,  which  was  checked  by  cold  fits  of  diffidence, 
fear  of  criticism,  and  habits  of  indolence  and  procras- 
tination. ^But,'  thought  he,  'I  may,  like  a  second 
Teucer,  discharge  my  shafts  from  behind  the  shield  of 
my  ally;  and,  admit  that  he  should  not  prove  to  be  a 
first-rate  poet,  I  am  in  no  shape  answerable  for  his  defi- 
ciencies, and  the  good  notes  may  very  probably  help  off 
an  indifferent  text.  But  he  is  —  he  must  be  a  good  poet; 
he  has  the  real  Parnassian  abstraction,  seldom  answers  a 
question  till  it  is  twice  repeated,  drinks  his  tea  scalding, 
and  eats  without  knowing  what  he  is  putting  into  his 
mouth.  This  is  the  real  cBstuSj  the  awen  of  the  Welsh 
bards,  the  divinus  afflatus  that  transports  the  poet  be- 
yond the  limits  of  sublunary  things.  His  visions,  too, 
are  very  symptomatical  of  poetic  fury;  I  must  recollect 
to  send  Caxon  to  see  he  puts  out  his  candle  to-night, 
poets  and  visionaries  are  apt  to  be  negligent  in  that  re- 
spect.' Then,  turning  to  his  companion,  he  expressed 
himself  aloud  in  continuation: — 

*  Yes,  my  dear  Lovel,  you  shall  have  full  notes ;  and,  in- 
deed, I  think  we  may  introduce  the  whole  of  the  Essay 
on  Castrametation*'  into  the  appendix;  it  will  give  great 

174 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

value  to  the  work.  Then  we  will  revive  the  good  old 
forms  so  disgracefully  neglected  in  modern  times.  You 
shall  invoke  the  Muse;  and  certainly  she  ought  to  be 
propitious  to  an  author  who,  in  an  apostatising  age, 
adheres  with  the  faith  of  Abdiel  to  the  ancient  form  of 
adoration.  Then  we  must  have  a  vision,  in  which  the 
genius  of  Caledonia  shall  appear  to  Galgacus  and  show 
him  a  procession  of  the  real  Scottish  monarchs;  and  in 
the  notes  I  will  have  a  hit  at  Boethius  —  no,  I  must  not 
touch  that  topic,  now  that  Sir  Arthur  is  likely  to  have 
vexation  enough  besides;  but  I'll  annihilate  Ossian, 
Macpherson,  and  Mac-Cribb.' 

^But  we  must  consider  the  expense  of  publication,* 
said  Lovel,  willing  to  try  whether  this  hint  would  fall 
like  cold  water  on  the  blazing  zeal  of  his  self-elected 
coadjutor. 

'Expense!'  said  Mr.  Oldbuck,  pausing  and  mechan- 
ically fumbling  in  his  pocket  —  Hhat  is  true;  I  would 
wish  to  do  something,  but  you  would  not  like  to  publish 
by  subscription? ' 

'By  no  means,'  answered  Lovel. 

*No,  no!'  gladly  acquiesced  the  Antiquary.  'It  is  not 
respectable.  I '11  tell  you  what:  I  beUeve  I  know  a  book- 
seller who  has  a  value  for  my  opinion,  and  will  risk  print 
and  paper,  and  I  will  get  as  many  copies  sold  for  you  as 
I  can.' 

'O,  I  am  no  mercenary  author,'  answered  Lovel,  smil- 
ing; 'I  only  wish  to  be  out  of  risk  of  loss.' 

'Hush!  hush!  we'll  take  care  of  that;  throw  it  all  on 
the  publishers.  I  do  long  to  see  your  labours  commenced. 
You  will  choose  blank  verse,  doubtless?  It  is  more  grand 
and  magnificent  for  an  historical  subject;  and,  what 


175 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


concerneth  you,  my  friend,  it  is,  I  have  an  idea,  more 
easily  written.' 

This  conversation  brought  them  to  Monkbarns, 
where  the  Antiquary  had  to  undergo  a  chiding  from  his 
sister,  who,  though  no  philosopher,  was  waiting  to  de- 
liver a  lecture  to  him  in  the  portico.  *  Guide  us,  Monk- 
barns,  are  things  no  dear  eneugh  already,  but  ye  maun 
be  raising  the  very  fish  on  us,  by  giving  that  randy, 
Luckie  Mucklebackit,  just  what  she  Hkes  to  ask?' 

*Why,  Grizel,'  said  the  sage,  somewhat  abashed  at 
this  unexpected  attack,  thought  I  made  a  very  fair 
bargain.' 

^  A  fair  bargain!  when  ye  gied  the  limmer  a  full  half  o' 
what  she  seekit!  An  ye  will  be  a  wife-carle,  and  buy  fish 
at  your  ain  hands,  ye  suld  never  bid  muckle  mair  than 
a  quarter.  And  the  impudent  quean  had  the  assurance 
to  come  up  and  seek  a  dram.  But  I  trow  Jenny  and 
I  sorted  her!* 

'Truly,'  said  Oldbuck  (with  a  sly  look  to  his  com- 
panion), *  I  think  our  estate  was  gracious  that  kept  us 
out  of  hearing  of  that  controversy.  Well,  well,  Grizel,  I 
was  wrong  for  once  in  my  life  —  ultra  crepidanty  I  fairly 
admit.  But  hang  expenses,  care  killed  a  cat;  we'll  eat 
the  fish,  cost  what  it  will.  And  then,  Lovel,  you  must 
know  I  pressed  you  to  stay  here  to-day  the  rather  be- 
cause our  cheer  will  be  better  than  usual,  yesterday 
having  been  a  gaude-day;  I  love  the  reversion  of  a  feast 
better  than  the  feast  itself.  I  delight  in  the  analecta,  the 
collectanea,  as  I  may  call  them,  of  the  preceding  day's 
dinner,  which  appear  on  such  occasions.  And  see,  there 
is  Jenny  going  to  ring  the  dinner-bell' 


CHAPTER  XV 


Be  this  letter  delivered  with  haste  —  haste  —  post-haste!  Ride,  villain,  ride,  for  thy 
life  —  for  thy  life  —  for  thy  lifel  —  Ancimt  Indorsation  of  Letters  of  Importance, 

Leaving  Mr.  Oldbuck  and  his  friend  to  enjoy  their  hard 
bargain  of  fish,  we  beg  leave  to  transport  the  reader  to 
the  back-parlour  of  the  postmaster's  house  at  Fairport, 
where  his  wife,  he  himself  being  absent,  was  employed 
in  assorting  for  delivery  the  letters  which  had  come  by 
the  Edinburgh  post.  This  is  very  often  in  country 
towns  the  period  of  the  day  when  gossips  find  it  particu- 
larly agreeable  to  call  on  the  man  or  woman  of  letters, 
in  order,  from  the  outside  of  the  epistles,  and,  if  they  are 
not  belied,  occasionally  from  the  inside  also,  to  amuse 
themselves  with  gleaning  information  or  forming  con- 
jectures about  the  correspondence  and  affairs  of  their 
neighbours.  Two  females  of  this  description  were,  at 
the  time  we  mention,  assisting,  or  impeding,  Mrs. 
Mailsetter  in  her  official  duty. 

'  Eh,  preserve  us,  sirs,'  said  the  butcher's  wife,  ^  there 's 
ten,  eleven,  twal  letters  to  Tennant  &  Co. ;  thae  folk  do 
mair  business  than  a'  the  rest  o'  the  burgh.' 

*Ay;  but  see,  lass,'  answered  the  baker's  lady, 
*  there's  twa  o'  them  faulded  unco  square,  and  sealed 
at  the  tae  side;  I  doubt  there  will  be  protested  bills  in 
them.' 

'Is  there  ony  letters  come  yet  for  Jenny  Caxon?'  in- 
quired the  woman  of  joints  and  giblets;  '  the  lieutenant's 
been  awa  three  weeks.' 


5  177 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


'Just  ane  on  Tuesday  was  a  week/  answered  the  dame 
of  letters. 

'Was 't  a  ship-letter?'  asked  the  Fornarina. 
'In  troth  was 't' 

'ft  wad  be  frae  the  Keu tenant  then/  replied  the  mis- 
tress of  the  rolls,  somewhat  disappointed;  'I  never 
thought  he  wad  hae  lookit  ower  his  shouther  after  her/ 

'Od,  here's  another/  quoth  Mrs.  Mailsetter.  'A 
ship-letter,  postmark  Sunderland.'  All  rushed  to  seize 
it.  'Na,  na,  leddies,'  said  Mrs.  Mailsetter,  interfering, 
'I  hae  had  eneugh  o'  that  wark.  Ken  ye  that  Mr. 
Mailsetter  got  an  unco  rebuke  frae  the  secretary  at 
Edinburgh  for  a  complaint  that  was  made  about  the 
letter  of  Aily  Bisset's  that  ye  opened,  Mrs.  Shortcake?' 

'Me  opened!'  answered  the  spouse  of  the  chief  baker 
of  Fairport;  'ye  ken  yoursell,  madam,  it  just  cam  open 
o'  free  will  in  my  hand.  What  could  I  help  it?  Folk  suld 
seal  wi'  better  wax.' 

'Weel  I  wot  that's  true,  too,'  said  Mrs.  Mailsetter, 
who  kept  a  shop  of  small  wares,  '  and  we  have  got  some 
that  I  can  honestly  recommend,  if  ye  ken  ony  body  want- 
ing it.  But  the  short  and  the  lang  o't  is,  that  we'll  lose 
the  place  gin  there's  ony  mair  complaints  o'  the  kind.' 

'Hout,  lass;  the  provost  will  take  care  o'  that.' 

'Na,  na;  I'll  neither  trust  to  provost  nor  bailie,'  said 
the  postmistress;  'but  I  wad  aye  be  obliging  and  neigh- 
bourly, and  I 'm  no  again  your  looking  at  the  outside  of 
a  letter  neither.  See,  the  seal  has  an  anchor  on't;  he's 
done 't  wi'  ane  o'  his  buttons,  I'm  thinking.' 

'Show  me!  show  me!'  quoth  the  wives  of  the  chief 
butcher  and  chief  baker,  and  threw  themselves  on  the 
supposed  love-letter  like  the  weird  sisters  in  Macbeth 

178 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

upon  the  pilot's  thumb,  with  curiosity  as  eager  and 
scarcely  less  malignant.  Mrs.  Heukbane  was  a  tall 
woman,  she  held  the  precious  epistle  up  between  her 
eyes  and  the  window.  Mrs.  Shortcake,  a  little  squat 
personage,  strained  and  stood  on  tiptoe  to  have  her 
share  of  the  investigation. 

^Ay,  it's  frae  him,  sure  eneugh,'  said  the  butcher's 
lady.  'I  can  read  "Richard  Taffril"  on  the  corner,  and 
it's  written,  like  John  Thomson's  wallet,  frae  end  to 
end.' 

'Haud  it  lower  down,  madam,'  exclaimed  Mrs.  Short- 
cake, in  a  tone  above  the  prudential  whisper  which  their 
occupation  required  —  ^haud  it  lower  down.  Div  ye 
think  naebody  can  read  hand  o'  writ  but  yoursell? ' 

^Whisht,  whisht,  sirs,  for  God's  sake!'  said  Mrs.  Mail- 
setter,  'there's  somebody  in  the  shop';  then  aloud, 
^Look  to  the  customers,  Baby! '  Baby  answered  from 
without  in  a  shrill  tone,  ^It's  naebody  but  Jenny  Caxon, 
ma'am,  to  see  if  there 's  ony  letters  to  her.' 

^Tell  her,'  said  the  faithful  postmistress,  winking  to 
her  compeers,  Ho  come  back  the  morn  at  ten  o'clock, 
and  I  '11  let  her  ken,  we  havena  had  time  to  sort  the  mail 
letters  yet.  She 's  aye  in  sic  a  hurry,  as  if  her  letters  were 
o'  mair  consequence  than  the  best  merchant's  o'  the 
town.' 

Poor  Jenny,  a  girl  of  uncommon  beauty  and  modesty, 
could  only  draw  her  cloak  about  her  to  hide  the  sigh 
of  disappointment,  and  return  meekly  home  to  endure 
for  another  night  the  sickness  of  the  heart  occasioned  by 
hope  delayed. 

*  There's  something  about  a  needle  and  a  pole,'  said 
Mrs.  Shortcake,  to  whom  her  taller  rival  in  gossiping 

179 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


had  at  length  yielded  a  peep  at  the  subject  of  their  curi- 
osity. 

^Now,  that's  downright  shamefu','  said  Mrs.  Heuk- 
bane,  ^  to  scorn  the  puir  silly  gait  of  a  lassie  after  he 's 
keepit  company  wi'  her  sae  lang,  and  had  his  will  o'  her, 
as  I  mak  nae  doubt  he  has.' 

'It's  but ower  muckle  to  be  doubted,'  echoed  Mrs. 
Shortcake.  'To  cast  up  to  her  that  her  father's  a  bar- 
ber, and  has  a  pole  at  his  door,  and  that  she 's  but  a 
manty-maker  hersell!  Hout!  fie  for  shame!' 

'Hout  tout,  leddies,'  cried  Mrs.  Mailsetter,  'ye 're 
clean  wrang.  It 's  a  line  out  o'  ane  o'  his  sailors'  sangs 
that  I  have  heard  him  sing,  about  being  true  Hke  the 
needle  to  the  pole.' 

'  Weel,  weel,  I  wish  it  may  be  sae,'  said  the  charitable 
Dame  Heukbane,  'but  it  disna  look  weel  for  a  lassie  hke 
her  to  keep  up  a  correspondence  wi'  ane  o'  the  king's 
ofl&cers.' 

'I'm  no  denying  that,'  said  Mrs.  Mailsetter;  'but  it's 
a  great  advantage  to  the  revenue  of  the  post-office  thae 
love  letters.  See,  here 's  five  or  six  letters  to  Sir  Arthur 
Wardour,  maist  o'  them  sealed  wi'  wafers  and  no  wi' 
wax;  there  will  be  a  downcome  there,  believe  me.' 

'Ay;  they  will  be  business  letters,  and  no  frae  ony  o' 
his  grand  friends,  that  seals  wi'  their  coats  of  arms,  as 
they  ca'  them,'  said  Mrs.  Heukbane.  'Pride  will  hae  a 
fa'.  He  hasna  settled  his  account  wi'  my  gudeman,  the 
deacon,  for  this  twalmonth;  he's  but  slink,  I  doubt.' 

'Nor  wi'  huz  for  sax  months,'  echoed  Mrs.  Shortcake. 
'He's  but  a  brunt  crust.' 

'There's  a  letter,'  interrupted  the  trusty  postmistress, 
'from  his  son,  the  captain,  I'm  thinking;  the  seal  has 

1 80 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

the  same  things  wi'  the  Elnockwinnock  carriage.  He'll 
be  coming  hame  to  see  what  he  can  save  out  o'  the  fire.' 

The  baronet  thus  dismissed,  they  took  up  the  esquire. 
'Twa  letters  for  Monkbarns;  they're  frae  some  o'  his 
learned  friends  now.  See,  sae  close  as  they're  written, 
down  to  the  very  seal,  and  a'  to  save  sending  a  double 
letter;  that's  just  Uke  Monkbarns  himsell.  When  he 
gets  a  frank  he  fills  it  up  exact  to  the  weight  of  an  unce, 
that  a  carvy-seed  would  sink  the  scale;  but  he's  ne'er  a 
grain  abune  it.  Weel  I  wot  I  wad  be  broken  if  I  were  to 
gie  sic  weight  to  the  folk  that  come  to  buy  our  pepper 
and  brimstone,  and  such  like  sweetmeats.' 

*  He's  a  shabby  body  the  Laird  o'  Monkbarns,'  said 
Mrs.  Heukbane;  'he'll  make  as  muckle  about  buying  a 
fore  quarter  o'  lamb  in  August  as  about  a  back  sey  o' 
beef.  Let's  taste  another  drap  o'  the  sinning  (perhaps 
she  meant  cinnamon)  waters,  Mrs.  Mailsetter,  my  dear. 
Ah!  lasses,  an  ye  had  kend  his  brother  as  I  did!  Mony  a 
time  he  wad  slip  in  to  see  me  wi'  a  brace  o'  wild  deukes 
in  his  pouch,  when  my  first  gudeman  was  awa  at  the 
Falkirk  Tryst;  weel,  weel  we'se  no  speak  o'  that 
e'enow.' 

'I  winna  say  ony  ill  o'  this  Monkbarns,'  said  Mrs. 
Shortcake;  'his  brother  ne'er  brought  me  ony  wild 
deukes,  and  this  is  a  douce  honest  man.  We  serve  the 
family  wi'  bread,  and  he  settles  wi'  huz  ilka  week;  only 
he  was  in  an  unco  kippage  when  we  sent  him  a  book 
instead  o'  the  nicksticks,^  whilk,  he  said,  were  the  true 
ancient  way  o'  counting  between  tradesmen  and  cus- 
tomers; and  sae  they  are,  nae  doubt.' 

'But  look  here,  lasses,'  interrupted  Mrs.  Mailsetter^ 
1  See  Note  a. 
i8i 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


'here 's  a  sight  for  sair  e'en!  What  wad  ye  gie  to  ken 
what 's  in  the  inside  o'  this  letter?  This  is  new  corn: 
I  haena  seen  the  Hke  o'  this.  "For  William  Lovel,  Es- 
quire, at  Mrs.  Hadoway's,  High  Street,  Fairport,  by 
Edinburgh,  N.B. "  This  is  just  the  second  letter  he  has 
had  since  he  was  here.' 

'Lord's  sake,  let's  see,  lass!  Lord's  sake,  let's  see! 
That's  him  that  the  hale  town  kens  naething about;  and 
a  weel-fa'ard  lad  he  is.  Let's  see  —  let's  see!'  Thus 
ejaculated  the  two  worthy  representatives  of  mother 
Eve. 

'Na,  na,  sirs,'  exclaimed  Mrs.  Mailsetter;  'hand  awa 
—  bide  aflf,  I  tell  you;  this  is  nane  o'  your  fourpenny  cuts 
that  we  might  make  up  the  value  to  the  post-office 
amang  ourselves  if  ony  mischance  befell  it.  The  postage 
is five-and-twenty  shillings;  and  here's  an  order  frae  the 
secretary  to  forward  it  to  the  young  gentleman  by  ex- 
press, if  he's  no  at  hame.  Na,  na,  sirs,  bide  aff;  this 
maunna  be  roughly  guided.' 

'But  just  let 's  look  at  the  outside  o't,  woman.' 

Nothing  could  be  gathered  from  the  outside,  except 
remarks  on  the  various  properties  which  philosophers 
ascribe  to  matter  —  length,  breadth,  depth,  and  weight. 
The  packet  was  composed  of  strong  thick  paper,  imper- 
viable  by  the  curious  eyes  of  the  gossips,  though  they 
stared  as  if  they  would  burst  from  their  sockets.  The 
seal  was  a  deep  and  well-cut  impression  of  arms,  which 
defied  all  tampering. 
/     'Od,  lass,'  said  Mrs.  Shortcake,  weighing  it  in  her 

^   hand,  and  wishing,  doubtless,  that  the  too,  too  solid  wax 

^i.^^/-^  ?j    {./;      would  melt  and  dissolve  itself, '  I  wad  like  to  ken  what 's 
in  the  inside  o'  this,  for  that  Lovel  dings  a'  that  ever  set 

182 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


foot  on  the  plainstanes  o'  Fairport:  naebody  kens  what 
to  make  o'  him.' 

*Weel,  weel,  leddies/  said  the  postmistress,  'we'se 
sit  down  and  crack  about  it.  Baby,  bring  ben  the  tea- 
water.  Muckle  obliged  to  ye  for  your  cookies,  Mrs. 
Shortcake;  and  we'll  steek  the  shop  and  cry  ben  Baby, 
and  take  a  hand  at  the  cartes  till  the  gudeman  comes 
hame;  and  then  we'll  try  your  braw  veal  sweetbread 
that  ye  were  so  kind  as  send  me,  Mrs.  Heukbane.' 

'But  winna  ye  first  send  awa  Mr.  LoveFs  letter?'  said 
Mrs.  Heukbane. 

'Troth  I  kenna  wha  to  send  wi't  till  the  gudeman 
comes  hame,  for  auld  Caxon  tell'd  me  that  Mr.  Lovel 
stays  a'  the  day  at  Monkbarns;  he 's  in  a  high  fever  wi^ 
pu'ing  the  Laird  and  Sir  Arthur  out  o'  the  sea.' 

'Silly  auld  doited  carles,'  said  Mrs.  Shortcake; 
*what  gar'd  them  gang  to  the  douking  in  a  night  hke 
yestreen? ' 

'I  was  gi'en  to  understand  it  was  auld  Edie  that  saved 
them,'  said  Mrs.  Heukbane  —  'Edie  Ochiltree,  the 
Blue-Gown,  ye  ken  —  and  that  he  pu'd  the  hale  three 
out  of  the  auld  fish-pound,  for  Monkbarns  had  threepit 
on  them  to  gang  in  till 't  to  see  the  wark  o'  the  monks 
lang  syne.' 

'Hout,  lass,  nonsense,'  answered  the  postmistress; 
'I'll  tell  ye  a'  about  it,  as  Caxon  tell'd  it  to  me.  Ye  see. 
Sir  Arthur  and  Miss  Wardour  and  Mr.  Lovel  suld  hae 
dined  at  Monkbarns  — ' 

'But,  Mrs.  Mailsetter,'  again  interrupted  Mrs.  Heuk- 
bane, 'will  ye  no  be  for  sending  awa  this  letter  by  ex- 
press? There 's  our  powny  and  our  callant  hae  gane  ex- 
press for  the  office  or  now,  and  the  powny  hasna  gane 

183 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


abune  thirty  mile  the  day.  Jock  was  sorting  him  up  as 
I  came  ower  by.' 

'Why,  Mrs.  Heukbane/  said  the  woman  of  letters, 
pursing  up  her  mouth,  'ye  ken  my  gudeman  likes  to 
ride  the  expresses  himsell:  we  maun  gie  our  ain  fish-guts 
to  our  ain  sea-maws.  It 's  a  red  half -guinea  to  him  every 
time  he  munts  his  mear;  and  I  daresay  he'll  be  in  sune, 
or  I  dare  to  say  it's  the  same  thing  whether  the  gentle- 
man gets  the  express  this  night  or  early  next  morning.' 

'Only  that  Mr.  Lovel  will  be  in  town  before  the  ex- 
press gaes  aff,'  said  Mrs.  Heukbane,  'and  whare  are  ye 
then,  lass?  But  ye  ken  yere  ain  ways  best.' 

'Weel,  weel,  Mrs.  Heukbane,'  answered  Mrs.  Mail- 
setter,  a  little  out  of  humour,  and  even  out  of  counten- 
ance, 'I  am  sure  I  am  never  against  being  neighbour- 
like, and  living  and  letting  live,  as  they  say;  and  since  I 
hae  been  sic  a  fule  as  to  show  you  the  post-office  order, 
ou,  nae  doubt  it  maun  be  obeyed.  But  I  '11  no  need  your 
callant,  mony  thanks  to  ye :  I  '11  send  little  Davie  on  your 
powny,  and  that  will  be  just  five-and-threepence  to  ilka 
ane  o'  us,  ye  ken.' 

'Davie!  the  Lord  help  ye,  the  bairn's  no  ten  year  auld; 
and,  to  be  plain  wi'  ye,  our  powny  reists  a  bit,  and  it 's 
dooms  sweer  to  the  road,  and  naebody  can  manage  him 
but  our  Jock.' 

'I'm  sorry  for  that,'  answered  the  postmistress, 
gravely,  'it's  like  we  maun  wait  then  till  the  gudeman 
comes  hame,  after  a' ;  for  I  wadna  like  to  be  responsible 
in  trusting  the  letter  to  sic  a  callant  as  Jock;  our  Davie 
belangs  in  a  manner  to  the  ojB&ce.' 

'  Aweel,  aweel,  Mrs.  Mailsetter,  I  see  what  ye  wad  be 
at;  but  an  ye  like  to  risk  the  bairn,  I'll  risk  the  beast.' 

184 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

Orders  were  accordingly  given.  The  unwilling  pony 
was  brought  out  of  his  bed  of  straw,  and  again  equipped 
for  service;  Davie  (a  leathern  post-bag  strapped  across 
his  shoulders)  was  perched  upon  the  saddle,  with  a  tear 
in  his  eye  and  a  switch  in  his  hand.  Jock  good-naturedly 
led  the  animal  out  of  the  town,  and,  by  the  crack  of  his 
whip  and  the  whoop  and  halloo  of  his  too  well-known 
voice,  compelled  it  to  take  the  road  towards  Monkbarns. 

Meanwhile  the  gossips,  like  the  sibyls  after  consulting 
their  leaves,  arranged  and  combined  the  information  of 
the  evening,  which  flew  next  morning  through  a  hundred 
channels,  and  in  a  hundred  varieties,  through  the  world 
of  Fairport.  Many,  strange,  and  inconsistent  were  the 
rumours  to  which  their  communications  and  conject- 
ures gave  rise.  Some  said  Tennant  &  Co.  were  broken, 
and  that  all  their  bills  had  come  back  protested;  others 
that  they  had  got  a  great  contract  from  government, 
and  letters  from  the  principal  merchants  at  Glasgow 
desiring  to  have  shares  upon  a  premium.  One  report 
stated  that  Lieutenant  Taffril  had  acknowledged  a  pri- 
vate marriage  with  Jenny  Caxon;  another,  that  he  had 
sent  her  a  letter  upbraiding  her  with  the  lowness  of  her 
birth  and  education,  and  bidding  her  an  eternal  adieu. 
It  was  generally  rimioured  that  Sir  Arthur  Wardour's 
affairs  had  fallen  into  irretrievable  confusion,  and  this 
report  was  only  doubted  by  the  wise  because  it  was 
traced  to  Mrs.  Mailsetter's  shop,  a  source  more  famous 
for  the  circulation  of  news  than  for  their  accuracy.  But 
all  agreed  that  a  packet  from  the  Secretary  of  State's 
office  had  arrived,  directed  for  Mr.  Lovel,  and  that  it 
had  been  forwarded  by  an  orderly  dragoon,  despatched 
from  the  headquarters  at  Edinburgh,  who  had  galloped 

i8S 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


through  Fairport  without  stopping,  except  Just  to  in- 
quire the  way  to  Monkbarns.  The  reason  of  such  an  ex- 
traordinary mission  to  a  very  peaceful  and  retired  in- 
dividual was  variously  explained.  Some  said  Lovel  was 
an  emigrant  noble,  summoned  to  head  an  insurrection 
that  had  broken  out  in  La  Vendee,  others  that  he  was  a 
spy,  others  that  he  was  a  general  officer  who  was  visiting 
the  coast  privately,  others  that  he  was  a  prince  of  the 
blood  who  was  travelling  incognito. 

Meanwhile  the  progress  of  the  packet  which  occa- 
sioned so  much  speculation  towards  its  destined  owner 
at  Monkbarns  had  been  perilous  and  interrupted.  The 
bearer,  Davie  Mailsetter,  as  little  resembling  a  bold 
dragoon  as  could  well  be  imagined,  was  carried  onwards 
towards  Monkbarns  by  the  pony  so  long  as  the  animal 
had  in  his  recollection  the  crack  of  his  usual  instrument 
of  chastisement  and  the  shout  of  the  butcher's  boy. 
But  feehng  how  Davie,  whose  short  legs  were  unequal 
to  maintain  his  balance,  swung  to  and  fro  upon  his  back, 
the  pony  began  to  disdain  further  compliance  with  the 
intimations  he  had  received.  First,  then,  he  slackened 
his  pace  to  a  walk.  This  was  no  point  of  quarrel  between 
him  and  his  rider,  who  had  been  considerably  discom- 
posed by  the  rapidity  of  his  former  motion,  and  who 
now  took  the  opportunity  of  his  abated  pace  to  gnaw  a 
piece  of  gingerbread  which  had  been  thrust  into  his  hand 
by  his  mother,  in  order  to  reconcile  this  youthful  emis- 
sary of  the  post-oflfice  to  the  discharge  of  his  duty.  By 
and  by  the  crafty  pony  availed  himself  of  this  surcease 
of  discipline  to  twitch  the  rein  out  of  Davie's  hands,  and 
apply  himself  to  browse  on  the  grass  by  the  side  of  the 
lane.  Sorely  astounded  by  these  symptoms  of  self- 

i86 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


willed  rebellion,  and  afraid  alike  to  sit  or  to  fall,  poor 
Davie  lifted  up  his  voice  and  wept  aloud.  The  pony, 
hearing  this  pudder  over  his  head,  began  apparently 
to  think  it  would  be  best  both  for  himself  and  Davie  to 
return  from  whence  they  came,  and  accordingly  com- 
menced a  retrograde  movement  towards  Fairport.  But, 
as  all  retreats  are  apt  to  end  in  utter  rout,  so  the  steed, 
alarmed  by  the  boy's  cries  and  by  the  flapping  of  the 
reins,  which  dangled  about  his  fore-feet,  finding  also  his 
nose  turned  homeward,  began  to  set  off  at  a  rate  which, 
if  Davie  kept  the  saddle  (a  matter  extremely  dubious), 
would  soon  have  presented  him  at  Heukbane's  stable- 
door,  when,  at  a  turn  of  the  road,  an  intervening  auxili- 
ary, in  the  shape  of  old  Edie  Ochiltree,  caught  hold  of 
therein  and  stopped  his  farther  proceeding.  ^Wha's 
aught  ye,  callant?  whaten  a  gate 's  that  to  ride?' 

*I  canna  help  it!'  blubbered  the  express;  'they  ca'  me 
little  Davie.' 

*  And  where  are  ye  gaun?' 

*I'm  gaun  to  Monkbarns  wi'  a  letter.' 

*Stirra,  this  is  no  the  road  to  Monkbarns.' 

But  Davie  could  only  answer  the  expostulation  with 
sighs  and  tears. 

Old  Edie  was  easily  moved  to  compassion  where  child- 
hood was  in  the  case.  'I  wasna  gaun  that  gate,'  he 
thought,  'but  it's  the  best  o'  my  way  o'  life  that  I 
canna  be  weel  out  o' my  road.  They'll  gie  me  quarters 
at  Monkbarns  readily  eneugh,  and  I'll  e'en  hirple  awa 
there  wi'  the  wean,  for  it  will  knock  its  harns  out,  puir 
thing,  if  there's  no  somebody  to  guide  the  powny.  — 
Sae  ye  hae  a  letter,  hinney?  will  ye  let  me  see 't?' 

'I'm  no  gaun  to  let  naebody  see  the  letter/  sobbed 

^  187 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


the  boy/ till  I  gie't  to  Mr.  Lovel,  for  I  am  a  faithfu' 
servant  o'  the  office  —  if  it  werena  for  the  powny.' 

'Very  right,  my  little  man/  said  Ochiltree,  turning 
the  reluctant  pony's  head  towards  Monkbarns;  'but 
we'll  guide  him  atween  us,  if  he 's  no  a'  the  sweerer/ 

Upon  the  very  height  of  Kinprunes,  to  which  Monk- 
barns  had  invited  Lovel  after  their  dinner,  the  Anti- 
quary, again  reconciled  to  the  once-degraded  spot,  was 
expatiating  upon  the  topics  the  scenery  afforded  for  a 
description  of  Agricola's  camp  at  the  dawn  of  morning, 
when  his  eye  was  caught  by  the  appearance  of  the  men- 
dicant and  his  protege.  'What  the  devil!  here  comes  old 
Edie,  bag  and  baggage,  I  think.' 

The  beggar  explained  his  errand,  and  Davie,  who  in- 
sisted upon  a  hteral  execution  of  his  commission  by  go- 
ing on  to  Monkbarns,  was  with  difficulty  prevailed  upon 
to  surrender  the  packet  to  its  proper  owner,  although  he 
met  him  a  mile  nearer  than  the  place  he  had  been  di- 
rected to.  'But  my  minnie  said  I  maun  be  sure  to  get 
twenty  shillings  and  five  shillings  for  the  postage,  and 
ten  shillings  and  sixpence  for  the  express;  there's  the 
paper.' 

'Let  me  see  —  let  me  see,'  said  Oldbuck,  putting  on 
his  spectacles  and  examining  the  crumpled  copy  of  regu- 
lations to  which  Davie  appealed.  '  Express,  per  man  and 
horse,  one  day,  not  to  exceed  ten  shillings  and  sixpence. 
One  day!  why,  it's  not  an  hour!  Man  and  horse!  why, 
'tis  a  monkey  on  a  starved  cat!' 

'Father  wad  hae  come  himsell,'  said  Davie,  'on  the 
muckle  red  mear,  an  ye  wad  hae  bidden  till  the  morn's 
night.' 

'Four-and- twenty  hours  after  the  regular  date  of  de- 
i88 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

livery!  You  little  cockatrice'  egg,  do  you  understand  the 
art  of  imposition  so  early?' 

*Hout,  Monkbarns,  dinna  set  your  wit  against  a 
bairn/  said  the  beggar;  ^mind  the  butcher  risked  his 
beast  and  the  wife  her  wean,  and  I  am  sure  ten  and  six- 
pence isna  ower  muckle.  Ye  didna  gang  sae  near  wi' 
Johnnie  Howie  when  — ' 

Lovel,  who,  sitting  on  the  supposed  pmtorium^  had 
glanced  over  the  contents  of  the  packet,  now  put  an  end 
to  the  altercation  by  paying  Davie's  demand,  and  then, 
turning  to  Mr.  Oldbuck  with  a  look  of  much  agitation, 
he  excused  himself  from  returning  with  him  to  Monk- 
barns  that  evening.  must  instantly  go  to  Fairport, 
and  perhaps  leave  it  on  a  moment's  notice;  your  kind- 
ness, Mr.  Oldbuck,  I  never  can  forget.' 

'No  bad  news,  I  hope?'  said  the  Antiquary. 

'Of  a  very  chequered  complexion,'  answered  his 
friend.  'Farewell;  in  good  or  bad  fortune  I  will  not  for- 
get your  regard.' 

'Nay,  nay;  stop  a  moment.  If  —  if — (making  an 
effort)  —  if  there  be  any  pecuniary  inconvenience  —  I 
have  fifty  —  or  a  hundred  guineas  at  your  service  —  till 
—  till  Whitsunday  —  or  indeed  as  long  as  you  please.' 

'I  am  much  obliged,  Mr.  Oldbuck,  but  I  am  amply 
provided,'  said  his  mysterious  young  friend.  'Excuse 
me,  I  really  cannot  sustain  further  conversation  at  pre- 
sent. I  will  write  or  see  you  before  I  leave  Fairport;  that 
is,  if  I  find  myself  obliged  to  go.'  So  saying,  he  shook 
the  Antiquary's  hand  warmly,  turned  from  him,  and 
walked  rapidly  towards  the  town,  'staying  no  longer 
question.' 

'Very  extraordinary  indeed,'  said  Oldbuck;  'but 
189 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


there's  something  about  this  lad  I  can  never  fathom; 
and  yet  I  cannot  for  my  heart  think  ill  of  him  neither.  I 
must  go  home  and  take  off  the  fire  in  the  Green  Room, 
for  none  of  my  womankind  will  venture  into  it  after 
twihght.' 

'And  how  am  I  to  win  hame? '  blubbered  the  disconso- 
late express. 

*  It's  a  fine  night/  said  the  Blue-Gown,  looking  up  to 
the  skies; ' I  had  as  gude  gang  back  to  the  town  and  take 
care  o'  the  wean.' 

*Do  so,  do  so,  Edie';  and,  rummaging  for  some  time 
in  his  huge  waistcoat  pocket  till  he  found  the  object  of 
his  search,  the  Antiquary  added,  there's  sixpence  to  ye 
to  buy  sneeshin.' 


CHAPTER  XVI 


I  am  bewitched  with  the  rogue's  company.  If  the  rascal  has  not  given  me  medicines 
to  make  me  love  him,  I  'II  be  hang'd;  it  could  not  be  else.  I  have  drunk  medicines. 

Henry  IV,  Part  II. 

Regular  for  a  fortnight  were  the  inquiries  of  the  Anti- 
quary at  the  veteran  Caxon  whether  he  had  heard  what 
Mr.  Lovel  was  about,  and  as  regular  were  Caxon^s  an- 
swers, ^that  the  town  could  learn  nae thing  about  him 
whatever,  except  that  he  had  received  anither  muckle 
letter  or  twa  frae  the  south,  and  that  he  was  never  seen 
on  the  plainstanes  at  a'.' 
*How  does  he  live,  Caxon?' 

*0u,  Mrs.  Hadoway  just  dresses  him  a  beefsteak  or  a 
mutton-chop,  or  makes  him  some  friar's  chicken,  or  just 
what  she  likes  hersell,  and  he  eats  it  in  the  little  red  par- 
lour off  his  bedroom.  She  canna  get  him  to  say  that  he 
likes  ae  thing  better  than  anither;  and  she  makes  him 
tea  in  a  morning,  and  he  settles  honourably  wi'  her  every 
week.' 

^But  does  he  never  stir  abroad?' 

^He  has  clean  gi'en  up  walking,  and  he  sits  a'  day  in 
his  room  reading  or  writing;  a  hantle  letters  he  has 
written,  but  he  wadna  put  them  into  our  post-house, 
though  Mrs.  Hadoway  offered  to  carry  them  hersell,  but 
sent  them  a'  under  ae  cover  to  the  sheriff,  and  it's  Mrs. 
Mailsetter's  belief  that  the  sheriff  sent  his  groom  to  put 
them  into  the  post-office  at  Tannonburgh.  It's  my  puir 
thought  that  he  jaloused  their  looking  into  his  letters  at 

191 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


Fairport;  and  weel  had  he  need,  for  my  puir  daughter 
Jenny  — ' 

^Tut,  don't  plague  me  with  your  womankind,  Caxon. 
About  this  poor  young  lad,  does  he  write  nothing  but 
letters?' 

*0u,  ay;  hale  sheets  o'  other  things,  Mrs.  Hadoway 
says.  She  wishes  muckle  he  could  be  gotten  to  take  a 
walk;  she  thinks  he's  but  looking  very  puirly,  and  his 
appetite 's  clean  gane;  but  he'll  no  hear  o'  ganging  ower 
the  door-stane  —  him  that  used  to  walk  sae  muckle  too.' 

^That 's  wrong;  I  have  a  guess  what  he's  busy  about, 
but  he  must  not  work  too  hard  neither.  I'll  go  and  see 
him  this  very  day;  he's  deep,  doubtless,  in  the  *^Cale- 
doniad.'" 

Having  formed  this  manful  resolution,  Mr.  Oldbuck 
equipped  himself  for  the  expedition  with  his  thick  walk- 
ing-shoes and  gold-headed  cane,  muttering  the  while  the 
words  of  Falstaff  which  we  have  chosen  for  the  motto 
of  this  chapter;  for  the  Antiquary  was  himself  rather 
surprised  at  the  degree  of  attachment  which  he  could 
not  but  acknowledge  he  entertained  for  this  stranger. 
The  riddle  was,  notwithstanding,  easily  solved.  Lovel 
had  many  attractive  quaUties,  but  he  won  our  Anti- 
quary's heart  by  being  on  most  occasions  an  excellent 
listener. 

A  walk  to  Fairport  had  become  somewhat  of  an  ad- 
venture with  Mr.  Oldbuck,  and  one  which  he  did  not  often 
care  to  undertake.  He  hated  greetings  in  the  market- 
place; and  there  were  generally  loiterers  in  the  streets  to 
persecute  him  either  about  the  news  of  the  day  or  about 
some  petty  pieces  of  business.  So  on  this  occasion  he 
had  no  sooner  entered  the  streets  of  Fairport  than  it  was 

192 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

*  Good-morrow,  Mr.  Oldbuck,  a  sight  o'  you 's  gude  for 
sair  een;  what  d'ye  think  of  the  news  in  the  **Sun"  the 
day?  they  say  the  great  attempt  will  be  made  in  a  fort- 
night.' 

'I  wish  to  the  Lord  it  were  made  and  over,  that  I 
might  hear  no  more  about  it.' 

'Monkbarns,  your  honour,'  said  the  nursery  and 
seedsman,  *  I  hope  the  plants  gied  satisfaction?  and  if  ye 
wanted  ony  flower  roots  fresh  frae  Holland,  or  (this  in 
a  lower  key)  an  anker  or  twa  o'  Cologne  gin,  ane  o'  our 
brigs  cam  in  yestreen.' 

*  Thank  ye,  thank  ye,  no  occasion  at  present,  Mr. 
Crabtree,'  said  the  Antiquary,  pushing  resolutely  on- 
ward. 

*  Mr.  Oldbuck,' said  the  town-clerk  (a  more  important 
person,  who  came  in  front  and  ventured  to  stop  the  old 
gentleman),  Hhe  provost,  understanding  you  were  in 
town,  begs  on  no  account  that  you'll  quit  it  without 
seeing  him;  he  wants  to  speak  to  ye  about  bringing  the 
water  frae  the  Fairwell  spring  through  a  part  o'  your 
lands.' 

^  What  the  deuce!  have  they  nobody's  land  but  mine 
to  cut  and  carve  on?  I  won't  consent,  tell  them.' 

'And  the  provost,'  said  the  clerk,  going  on  without 
noticing  the  rebuff,  'and  the  council  wad  be  agreeable 
that  you  should  hae  the  auld  stanes  at  Donagild's 
chapel,  that  ye  was  wussing  to  hae.' 

*Eh?  what?  Oho,  that's  another  story.  Well,  well, 
I'll  call  upon  the  provost  and  we'll  talk  about  it.' 

'  But  ye  maun  speak  your  mind  on 't  forthwith.  Monk- 
barns,  if  ye  want  the  stanes;  for  Deacon  Harlewalls 
thinks  the  carved  through-stanes  might  be  put  with  ad- 

«  193 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


vantage  on  the  front  of  the  new  council-house;  that  is, 
the  twa  cross-legged  figures  that  the  callants  used  to 
ca'  Robin  and  Bobbin,  ane  on  ilka  door  cheek;  and  the 
other  stane,  that  they  ca'd  Ailie  DaiUe,  abune  the  door. 
It  will  be  very  tastefu',  the  deacon  says,  and  just  in  the 
style  of  modern  Gothic' 

^Lord  deliver  me  from  this  Gothic  generation!'  ex- 
claimed the  Antiquary.  *  A  monument  of  a  Knight  Tem- 
plar on  each  side  of  a  Grecian  porch,  and  a  Madonna  on 
the  top  of  it!  0  crimini!  Well,  tell  the  provost  I  wish  to 
have  the  stones,  and  we'll  not  differ  about  the  water- 
course. It's  lucky  I  happened  to  come  this  way  to-day.' 

They  parted  mutually  satisfied;  but  the  wily  clerk  had 
most  reason  to  exult  in  the  dexterity  he  had  displayed, 
since  the  whole  proposal  of  an  exchange  between  the 
monuments  (which  the  council  had  determined  to  re- 
move as  a  nuisance  because  they  encroached  three  feet 
upon  the  public  road)  and  the  privilege  of  conveying  the 
water  to  the  burgh  through  the  estate  of  Monkbarns 
was  an  idea  which  had  originated  with  himself  upon  the 
pressure  of  the  moment. 

Through  these  various  entanglements  Monkbarns  (to 
use  the  phrase  by  which  he  was  distinguished  in  the 
country)  made  his  way  at  length  to  Mrs.  Hadoway's. 
This  good  woman  was  the  widow  of  a  late  clergyman  at 
Fairport,  who  had  been  reduced  by  her  husband's  un- 
timely death  to  that  state  of  straitened  and  embarrassed 
circumstances  in  which  the  widows  of  the  Scotch  clergy 
are  too  often  found.  The  tenement  which  she  occupied 
and  the  furniture  of  which  she  was  possessed  gave  her 
the  means  of  letting  a  part  of  her  house,  and  as  Lovel 
had  been  a  quiet,  regular,  and  profitable  lodger,  and  had 

194 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


qualified  the  necessary  intercourse  which  they  had  to- 
gether with  a  great  deal  of  gentleness  and  courtesy,  Mrs. 
Hadoway,  not  perhaps  much  used  to  such  kindly  treat- 
ment, had  become  greatly  attached  to  her  lodger,  and 
was  profuse  in  every  sort  of  personal  attention  which 
circumstances  permitted  her  to  render  him.  To  cook  a 
dish  somewhat  better  than  ordinary  for  Hhe  poor  young 
gentleman's  dinner';  to  exert  her  interest  with  those 
who  remembered  her  husband,  or  loved  her  for  her  own 
sake  and  his,  in  order  to  procure  scarce  vegetables,  or 
something  which  her  simpUcity  supposed  might  tempt 
her  lodger's  appetite,  was  a  labour  in  which  she  deHghted, 
although  she  anxiously  concealed  it  from  the  person 
who  was  its  object.  She  did  not  adopt  this  secrecy  of 
benevolence  to  avoid  the  laugh  of  those  who  might  sup- 
pose that  an  oval  face  and  dark  eyes,  with  a  clear  brown 
complexion,  though  belonging  to  a  woman  of  five-and- 
f  orty ,  and  enclosed  within  a  widow's  close-drawn  pinners, 
might  possibly  still  aim  at  making  conquests;  for,  to 
say  truth,  such  a  ridiculous  suspicion  having  never 
entered  into  her  own  head,  she  could  not  anticipate  its 
having  birth  in  that  of  any  one  else.  But  she  concealed 
her  attentions  solely  out  of  dehcacy  to  her  guest,  whose 
power  of  repaying  them  she  doubted  as  much  as  she  be- 
Ueved  in  his  inclination  to  do  so,  and  in  his  being  likely 
to  feel  extreme  pain  at  leaving  any  of  her  civilities  un- 
requited. She  now  opened  the  door  to  Mr.  Oldbuck,  and 
her  surprise  at  seeing  him  brought  tears  into  her  eyes, 
which  she  could  hardly  restrain. 

^  I  am  glad  to  see  you,  sir  —  I  am  very  glad  to  see  you. 
My  poor  gentleman  is,  I  am  afraid,  very  unwell;  and  O, 
Mr.  Oldbuck,  he'll  see  neither  doctor  nor  minister  nor 


195 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


writer!  And  think  what  it  would  be  if,  as  my  poor  Mr. 
Hadoway  used  to  say,  a  man  was  to  die  without  advice 
of  the  three  learned  faculties!' 

^  Greatly  better  than  with  them,'  grumbled  the  cyn- 
ical Antiquary.  '  I  tell  you,  Mrs.  Hadoway,  the  clergy 
live  by  our  sins,  the  medical  faculty  by  our  diseases,  and 
the  law  gentry  by  our  misfortunes.' 

*0  fie,  Monkbarns,  to  hear  the  Hke  o'  that  frae  you! 
But  ye '11  walk  up  and  see  the  poor  young  lad?  Hegh, 
sirs,  sae  young  and  weel-favoured;  and  day  by  day  he 
has  eat  less  and  less,  and  now  he  hardly  touches  ony 
thing,  only  just  pits  a  bit  on  the  plate  to  make  fashion, 
and  his  poor  cheek  has  turned  every  day  thinner  and 
paler,  sae  that  he  now  really  looks  as  auld  as  me,  that 
might  be  his  mother;  no  that  I  might  be  just  that 
neither,  but  something  very  near  it.' 

'Why  does  he  not  take  some  exercise?'  said  Oldbuck. 

*I  think  we  have  persuaded  him  to  do  that,  for  he  has 
bought  a  horse  from  Gibbie  Golightly,  the  galloping 
groom.  A  gude  judge  o'  horse-flesh  Gibbie  tauld  our  lass 
that  he  was;  for  he  offered  him  a  beast  he  thought  wad 
answer  him  weel  eneugh,  as  he  was  a  bookish  man,  but 
Mr.  Lovel  wadna  look  at  it,  and  bought  ane  might  serve 
the  Master  o'  Morphie.  They  keep  it  at  the  Graeme's 
Arms,  ower  the  street,  and  he  rode  out  yesterday  morn- 
ing and  this  morning  before  breakfast.  But  winna  ye 
walk  up  to  his  room?' 

'Presently,  presently;  but  has  he  no  visitors?' 

'O  dear,  Mr.  Oldbuck,  not  ane;  if  he  wadna  receive 
them  when  he  was  weel  and  sprightly,  what  chance  is 
there  of  ony  body  in  Fairport  looking  in  upon  him  now? ' 

'Ay,  ay,  very  true;  I  should  have  been  surprised  had 
196 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


it  been  otherwise.  Come,  show  me  upstairs,  Mrs.  Hado- 
way,  lest  I  make  a  blunder  and  go  where  I  should  not.^ 
The  good  landlady  showed  Mr.  Oldbuck  up  her  nar- 
row staircase,  warning  him  of  every  turn,  and  lamenting 
all  the  while  that  he  was  laid  under  the  necessity  of 
mounting  up  so  high.  At  length  she  gently  tapped  at 
the  door  of  her  guest's  parlour. 

*Come  in,'  said  Lovel;  and  Mrs.  Hadoway  ushered  in 
the  Laird  of  Monkbarns. 

The  httle  apartment  was  neat  and  clean,  and  decently 
furnished,  ornamented  too  by  such  reHcs  of  her  youthful 
arts  of  sempstress-ship  as  Mrs.  Hadoway  had  retained; 
but  it  was  close,  over-heated,  and,  as  it  appeared  to  Old- 
buck,  an  unwholesome  situation  for  a  young  person  in 
delicate  health,  an  observation  which  ripened  his  resolu- 
tion touching  a  project  that  had  already  occurred  to 
him  in  LoveFs  behalf.  With  a  writing-table  before  him, 
on  which  lay  a  quantity  of  books  and  papers,  Lovel  was 
seated  on  a  couch  in  his  nightgown  and  slippers.  Old- 
buck  was  shocked  at  the  change  which  had  taken  place 
in  his  personal  appearance.  His  cheek  and  brow  had 
assumed  a  ghastly  white,  except  where  a  round  bright 
spot  of  hectic  red  formed  a  strong  and  painful  contrast, 
totally  different  from  the  general  cast  of  hale  and  hardy 
complexion  which  had  formerly  overspread  and  some- 
what embrowned  his  countenance.  Oldbuck  observed 
that  the  dress  he  wore  belonged  to  a  deep  mourning  suit, 
and  a  coat  of  the  same  colour  hung  on  a  chair  near  to 
him.  As  the  Antiquary  entered  Lovel  arose  and  came 
forward  to  welcome  him. 

*This  is  very  kind,'  he  said,  shaking  him  by  the  hand 
and  thanking  him  warmly  for  his  visit  —  ^  this  is  very 

197  ^ 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


kind,  and  has  anticipated  a  visit  with  which  I  intended 
to  trouble  you;  you  must  know  I  have  become  a  horse- 
man lately.' 

understand  as  much  from  Mrs.  Hadoway;  I  only 
hope,  my  good  young  friend,  you  have  been  fortunate 
in  a  quiet  horse.  I  myself  inadvertently  bought  one 
from  the  said  Gibbie  Golightly,  which  brute  ran  two 
miles  on  end  with  me  after  a  pack  of  hounds  with  which 
I  had  no  more  to  do  than  the  last  year's  snow,  and,  after 
affording  infinite  amusement,  I  suppose,  to  the  whole 
hunting  field,  he  was  so  good  as  to  deposit  me  in  a  dry 
ditch.  I  hope  yours  is  a  more  peaceful  beast? ' 

*I  hope  at  least  we  shall  make  our  excursions  on  a 
better  plan  of  mutual  understanding.' 

'That  is  to  say,  you  think  yourself  a  good  horseman?' 

'I  would  not  willingly,'  answered  Lovel,  'confess  my- 
self a  very  bad  one.' 

'No;  all  you  young  fellows  think  that  would  be  equal 
to  calling  yourselves  tailors  at  once.  But  have  you  had 
experience?  for,  crede  experto,  a  horse  in  a  passion  is  no 
joker.' 

'Why,  I  should  be  sorry  to  boast  myself  as  a  great 

horseman,  but  when  I  acted  as  aid-de-camp  to  Sir  

 in  the  cavalry  action  at   ,  last  year,  I  saw 

many  better  cavaHers  than  myself  dismounted/ 

'Ah!  you  have  looked  in  the  face  of  the  grisly  god  of 
arms  then,  you  are  acquainted  with  the  frowns  of  Mars 
armipotent?  That  experience  fills  up  the  measure  of 
your  quaHfications  for  the  epopea!  The  Britons  how- 
ever, you  will  remember,  fought  in  chariots  —  covinarii 
is  the  phrase  of  Tacitus;  you  recollect  the  fine  descrip- 
tion of  their  dashing  among  the  Roman  infantry, 

198 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


although  the  historian  tells  us  how  ill  the  rugged  face  of 
the  ground  was  calculated  for  equestrian  combat;  and 
truly,  upon  the  whole,  what  sort  of  chariots  could  be 
driven  in  Scotland  anywhere  but  on  turnpike  roads  has 
been  to  me  always  matter  of  amazement.  And  well  now, 
has  the  Muse  visited  you?  Have  you  got  anything  to 
show  me? ' 

^  My  time,'  said  Lovel,  with  a  glance  at  his  black  dress, 
'has  been  less  pleasantly  employed.' 

'The  death  of  a  friend?'  said  the  Antiquary. 

'Yes,  Mr.  Oldbuck,  of  almost  the  only  friend  I  could 
ever  boast  of  possessing.' 

'Indeed!  Well,  young  man,'  replied  his  visitor,  in  a 
tone  of  seriousness  very  different  from  his  affected 
gravity,  'be  comforted:  to  have  lost  a  friend  by  death 
while  your  mutual  regard  was  warm  and  unchilled, 
while  the  tear  can  drop  unembittered  by  any  painful 
recollection  of  coldness  or  distrust  or  treachery,  is  per- 
haps an  escape  from  a  more  heavy  dispensation.  Look 
round  you;  how  few  do  you  see  grow  old  in  the  affections 
of  those  with  whom  their  early  friendships  were  formed! 
Our  sources  of  common  pleasure  gradually  dry  up  as  we 
journey  on  through  the  vale  of  Bacha,  and  we  hew  out 
to  ourselves  other  reservoirs,  from  which  the  first  com- 
panions of  our  pilgrimage  are  excluded;  jealousies,  rival- 
ries, envy,  intervene  to  separate  others  from  our  side, 
until  none  remain  but  those  who  are  connected  with  us 
rather  by  habit  than  predilection,  or  who,  allied  more  in 
blood  than  in  disposition,  only  keep  the  old  man  com- 
pany in  his  life  that  they  may  not  be  forgotten  at  his 
death  — 

Haec  data  poena  diu  viventibus. 
199 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


Ah !  Mr.  Lovel,  if  it  be  your  lot  to  reach  the  chill,  cloudy, 
and  comfortless  evening  of  life,  you  will  remember  the 
sorrows  of  your  youth  as  the  light  shadowy  clouds  that 
intercepted  for  a  moment  the  beams  of  the  sun  when 
it  was  rising.  But  I  cram  these  words  into  your  ears 
against  the  stomach  of  your  sense.' 

'I  am  sensible  of  your  kindness,'  answered  the  youth, 
*but  the  wound  that  is  of  recent  infliction  must  always 
smart  severely,  and  I  should  be  little  comforted  under 
my  present  calamity  —  forgive  me  for  saying  so  —  by 
the  conviction  that  hfe  had  nothing  in  reserve  for  me  but 
a  train  of  successive  sorrows.  And  permit  me  to  add, 
you,  Mr.  Oldbuck,  have  least  reason  of  many  men  to 
take  so  gloomy  a  view  of  life.  You  have  a  competent 
and  easy  fortune,  are  generally  respected,  may,  in  your 
own  phrase^  vacare  musis  —  indulge  yourself  in  the  re- 
searches to  which  your  taste  addicts  you;  you  may  form 
your  own  society  without  doors,  and  within  you  have 
the  affectionate  and  sedulous  attention  of  the  nearest 
relatives.' 

'Why,  yes,  the  womankind;  for  womankind  are, 
thanks  to  my  training,  very  civil  and  tractable,  do  not 
disturb  me  in  my  morning  studies,  creep  across  the  floor 
with  the  stealthy  pace  of  a  cat  when  it  suits  me  to  take 
a  nap  in  my  easy-chair  after  dinner  or  tea.  All  this  is 
very  well,  but  I  want  something  to  exchange  ideas  with 
—  something  to  talk  to.' 

'Then  why  do  you  not  invite  your  nephew.  Captain 
MTntyre,  who  is  mentioned  by  every  one  as  a  fine- 
spirited  young  fellow,  to  become  a  member  of  your 
family?' 

'Who?'  exclaimed  Monkbarns,  'my  nephew  Hector! 
200 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

the  Hotspur  of  the  North!  Why,  Heaven  love  you,  I 
would  as  soon  invite  a  firebrand  into  my  stackyard. 
He's  an  Almanzor,  a  Chamont,  has  a  Highland  pedi- 
gree as  long  as  his  claymore,  and  a  claymore  as  long  as 
the  High  Street  of  Fairport,  which  he  unsheathed  upon 
the  surgeon  the  last  time  he  was  at  Fairport.  I  expect 
him  here  one  of  these  days,  but  I  will  keep  him  at  staff's 
end,  I  promise  you.  He  an  inmate  of  my  house !  to  make 
my  very  chairs  and  tables  tremble  at  his  brawls.  No,  no, 
I'll  none  of  Hector  MTntyre.  But  hark  ye,  Lovel,  you 
are  a  quiet  gen  tie- tempered  lad;  had  not  you  better  set 
up  your  staff  at  Monkbarns  for  a  month  or  two,  since  I 
conclude  you  do  not  immediately  intend  to  leave  this 
country?  I  will  have  a  door  opened  out  to  the  garden  — 
it  will  cost  but  a  trifle,  there  is  the  space  for  an  old  one 
which  was  condemned  long  ago  —  by  which  said  door 
you  may  pass  and  repass  into  the  Green  Chamber  at 
pleasure,  so  you  will  not  interfere  with  the  old  man,  nor 
he  with  you.  As  for  your  fare,  Mrs.  Hadoway  tells  me 
you  are,  as  she  terms  it,  very  moderate  of  your  mouth, 
so  you  will  not  quarrel  with  my  humble  table.  Your 
washing  — ' 

*Hold,  my  dear  Mr.  Oldbuck,'  interposed  Lovel,  un- 
able to  repress  a  smile;  'and  before  your  hospitality 
settles  all  my  accommodations,  let  me  thank  you  most 
sincerely  for  so  kind  an  offer;  it  is  not  at  present  in  my 
power  to  accept  of  it,  but  very  Ukely  before  I  bid  adieu 
to  Scotland  I  shall  find  an  opportunity  to  pay  you  a 
visit  of  some  length.' 

Mr.  Oldbuck's  countenance  fell.  'Why,  I  thought  I 
had  hit  on  the  very  arrangement  that  would  suit  us  both, 
and  who  knows  what  might  happen  in  the  long  run,  and 

201 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


whether  we  might  ever  part?  Why,  I  am  master  of  my 
acres,  man;  there  is  the  advantage  of  being  descended 
from  a  man  of  mare  sense  than  pride:  they  cannot 
oblige  me  to  transmit  my  goods,  chattels,  and  heritages 
any  way  but  as  I  please.  No  string  of  substitute  heirs  of 
entail,  as  empty  and  unsubstantial  as  the  morsels  of 
paper  strung  to  the  train  of  a  boy's  kite,  to  cumber  my 
flights  of  incUnation  and  my  humours  of  predilection. 
Well,  I  see  you  won't  be  tempted  at  present.  But 
"Caledonia"  goes  on,  I  hope?' 

*0,  certainly!'  said  Lovel,  'I  cannot  think  of  relin- 
quishing a  plan  so  hopeful.' 

*It  is  indeed,'  said  the  Antiquary,  looking  gravely 
upward,  for,  though  shrewd  and  acute  enough  in  esti- 
mating the  variety  of  plans  formed  by  others,  he  had 
a  very  natural,  though  rather  disproportioned,  good 
opinion  of  the  importance  of  those  which  originated  with 
himself  —  *it  is  indeed  one  of  those  undertakings  which, 
if  achieved  with  spirit  equal  to  that  which  dictates  its 
conception,  may  redeem  from  the  charge  of  frivoHty  the 
literature  of  the  present  generation.' 

Here  he  was  interrupted  by  a  knock  at  the  room  door, 
which  introduced  a  letter  for  Mr.  Lovel.  The  servant 
waited,  Mrs.  Hadoway  said,  for  an  answer.  'You  are 
concerned  in  this  matter,  Mr.  Oldbuck,'  said  Lovel, 
after  glancing  over  the  billet,  and  handed  it  to  the  Anti- 
quary as  he  spoke. 

It  was  a  letter  from  Sir  Arthur  Wardour,  couched  in 
extremely  civil  language,  regretting  that  a  fit  of  the  gout 
had  prevented  his  hitherto  showing  Mr.  Lovel  the  atten- 
tions to  which  his  conduct  during  a  late  perilous  occa- 
sion had  so  well  entitled  him,  apologising  for  not  paying 

202 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


his  respects  in  person,  but  hoping  Mr.  Lovel  would  dis- 
pense with  that  ceremony  and  be  a  member  of  a  small 
party  which  proposed  to  visit  the  ruins  of  St.  Ruth's 
priory  on  the  following  day,  and  afterwards  to  dine  and 
spend  the  evening  at  Knockwinnock  Castle.  Sir  Arthur 
concluded  with  saying  that  he  had  sent  to  request  the 
Monkbarns  family  to  join  the  party  of  pleasure  which 
he  thus  proposed.  The  place  of  rendezvous  was  fixed 
at  a  turnpike  gate,  which  was  about  an  equal  distance 
from  all  the  points  from  which  the  company  were  to 
assemble. 

*What  shall  we  do?'  said  Lovel,  looking  at  the  Anti- 
quary, but  pretty  certain  of  the  part  he  would  take. 

'Go,  man;  we'll  go  by  all  means.  Let  me  see  —  it 
will  cost  a  post-chaise  though,  which  will  hold  you  and 
me  and  Mary  M'Intyre  very  well,  and  the  other  woman- 
kind may  go  to  the  manse;  and  you  can  come  out  in  the 
chaise  to  Monkbarns,  as  I  will  take  it  for  the  day.' 

*  Why,  I  rather  think  I  had  better  ride.' 

'True,  true,  I  forgot  your  Bucephalus.  You  are  a 
fooUsh  lad,  by  the  by,  for  purchasing  the  brute  outright; 
you  should  stick  to  eighteenpence  a  side,  if  you  will 
trust  any  creature's  legs  in  preference  to  your  own.' 

'Why,  as  the  horses  have  the  advantage  of  moving 
considerably  faster,  and  are,  besides,  two  pair  to  one,  I 
own  I  incline  — ' 

'Enough  said  —  enough  said;  do  as  you  please.  Well, 
then,  I'll  bring  either  Grizel  or  the  minister,  for  I  love 
to  have  my  full  pennyworth  out  of  post-horses;  and  we 
meet  at  Tirlingen  turnpike  on  Friday,  at  twelve  o'clock 
precisely.'  And  with  this  agreement  the  friends  sepa- 
rated. 


CHAPTER  XVII 


Of  seats  they  tell,  where  priests,  'raid  tapers  dim, 
Breathed  the  warm  prayer  or  tuned  the  midnight  hymn. 
To  scenes  like  these  the  fainting  soul  retired, 
Revenge  and  anger  in  these  cells  expired, 
By  Pity  soothed,  Remorse  lost  half  her  fears, 
And  soften'd  Pride  dropp'd  penitential  tears. 

Crabbe's  Borough. 

The  morning  of  Friday  was  as  serene  and  beautiful  as  if 
no  pleasure  party  had  been  intended;  and  that  is  a  rare 
event,  whether  in  novel-writing  or  real  hfe.  Lovel,  who 
felt  the  genial  influence  of  the  weather  and  rejoiced  at 
the  prospect  of  once  more  meeting  with  Miss  Wardour, 
trotted  forward  to  the  place  of  rendezvous  with  better 
spirits  than  he  had  for  some  time  enjoyed.  His  pros- 
pects seemed  in  many  respects  to  open  and  brighten  be- 
fore him,  and  hope,  although  breaking  like  the  morning 
sun  through  clouds  and  showers,  appeared  now  about 
to  illuminate  the  path  before  him.  He  was,  as  might 
have  been  expected  from  this  state  of  spirits,  first  at  the 
place  of  meeting,  and,  as  might  also  have  been  antici- 
pated, his  looks  were  so  intently  directed  towards  the 
road  from  Knockwinnock  Castle  that  he  was  only  ap- 
prised of  the  arrival  of  the  Monkbarns  division  by  the 
gee-hupping  of  the  postilion,  as  the  post-chaise  lumbered 
up  behind  him.  In  this  vehicle  were  pent  up,  first,  the 
stately  figure  of  Mr.  Oldbuck  himself;  secondly,  the 
scarce  less  portly  person  of  the  Reverend  Mr.  Blatter- 
gowl,  minister  of  Trotcosey,  the  parish  in  which  Monk- 
barns  and  Knockwinnock  were  both  situated.  The 

204 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

reverend  gentleman  was  equipped  in  a  buzz  wig,  upon 
the  top  of  which  was  an  equilateral  cocked  hat.  This 
was  the  paragon  of  the  three  yet  remaining  wigs  of  the 
parish,  which  differed,  as  Monkbarns  used  to  remark, 
hke  the  three  degrees  of  comparison  —  Sir  Arthur's 
ramilies  being  the  positive,  his  own  bob-wig  the  com- 
parative, and  the  overwhelming  grizzle  of  the  worthy 
clergyman  figuring  as  the  superlative.  The  superintend- 
ent of  these  antique  garnitures,  deeming,  or  affecting  to 
deem,  that  he  could  not  well  be  absent  on  an  occasion 
which  assembled  all  three  together,  had  seated  himself 
on  the  board  behind  the  carriage,  ^  just  to  be  in  the  way 
in  case  they  wanted  a  touch  before  the  gentlemen  sat 
down  to  dinner.'  Between  the  two  massive  figures  of 
Monkbarns  and  the  clergyman  was  stuck,  by  way  of 
bodkin,  the  slim  form  of  Mary  MTntyre,  her  aunt  hav- 
ing preferred  a  visit  to  the  manse  and  a  social  chat  with 
Miss  Beckie  Blattergowl  to  investigating  the  ruins  of 
the  priory  of  St.  Ruth. 

As  greetings  passed  between  the  members  of  the 
Monkbarns  party  and  Mr.  Lovel,  the  Baronet's  carriage, 
an  open  barouche,  swept  onward  to  the  place  of  appoint- 
ment, making,  with  its  smoking  bays,  smart  drivers, 
arms,  blazoned  panels,  and  a  brace  of  outriders,  a  strong 
contrast  with  the  battered  vehicle  and  broken-winded 
hacks  which  had  brought  thither  the  Antiquary  and  his 
followers.  The  principal  seat  of  the  carriage  was  occu- 
pied by  Sir  Arthur  and  his  daughter.  At  the  first  glance 
which  passed  betwixt  Miss  Wardour  and  Lovel,  her 
colour  rose  considerably;  but  she  had  apparently  made 
up  her  mind  to  receive  him  as  a  friend,  and  only  as  such, 
and  there  was  equal  composure  and  courtesy  in  the 

20S 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


mode  of  her  reply  to  his  fluttered  salutation.  Sir  Arthur 
halted  the  barouche  to  shake  his  preserver  kindly  by  the 
hand,  and  intimate  the  pleasure  he  had  on  this  oppor- 
tunity of  returning  him  his  personal  thanks;  then  men- 
tioned to  him,  in  a  tone  of  sHght  introduction,  ^Mr. 
Dousterswivel,  Mr.  Lovel.' 

Lovel  took  the  necessary  notice  of  the  German  adept, 
who  occupied  the  front  seat  of  the  carriage,  which  is 
usually  conferred  upon  dependents  or  inferiors.  The 
ready  grin  and  supple  inclination  with  which  his  saluta- 
tion, though  slight,  was  answered  by  the  foreigner,  in- 
creased the  internal  dislike  which  Lovel  had  already  con- 
ceived towards  him ;  and  it  was  plain,  from  the  lour  of 
the  Antiquary's  shaggy  eyebrow,  that  he  too  looked 
with  displeasure  on  this  addition  to  the  company.  Little 
more  than  distant  greeting  passed  among  the  members 
of  the  party,  until,  having  rolled  on  for  about  three 
miles  beyond  the  place  at  which  they  met,  the  carriages 
at  length  stopped  at  the  sign  of  the  Four  Horseshoes,  a 
small  hedge  inn,  where  Caxon  humbly  opened  the  door 
and  let  down  the  step  of  the  hackchaise,  while  the  in- 
mates of  the  barouche  were,  by  their  more  courtly  at- 
tendants, assisted  to  leave  their  equipage. 

Here  renewed  greetings  passed;  the  young  ladies 
shook  hands;  and  Oldbuck,  completely  in  his  element, 
placed  himself  as  guide  and  cicerone  at  the  head  of  the 
party,  who  were  now  to  advance  on  foot  towards  the 
object  of  their  curiosity.  He  took  care  to  detain  Lovel 
close  beside  him  as  the  best  Hstener  of  the  party,  and 
occasionally  glanced  a  word  of  explanation  and  instruc- 
tion to  Miss  Wardour  and  Mary  M'Intyre,  who  fol- 
lowed next  in  order.  The  Baronet  and  the  clergyman  he 

206 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


rather  avoided,  as  he  was  aware  both  of  them  conceived 
they  understood  such  matters  as  well,  or  better,  than  he 
did;  and  Dousterswivel,  besides  that  he  looked  on  him 
as  a  charlatan,  was  so  nearly  connected  with  his  appre- 
hended loss  in  the  stock  of  the  mining  company  that  he 
could  not  abide  the  sight  of  him.  These  two  latter  satel- 
lites, therefore,  attended  upon  the  orb  of  Sir  Arthur,  to 
whom,  moreover,  as  the  most  important  person  of  the 
society,  they  were  naturally  induced  to  attach  them- 
selves. 

It  frequently  happens  that  the  most  beautiful  points 


of  Scottish  scenery  lie  hidden  in  some  sequestered  dell, 
and  that  you  may  travel  through  the  country  in  every 
direction  without  being  aware  of  your  vicinity  to  what  is 
well  worth  seeing,  unless  intention  or  accident  carry  you 
to  the  very  spot.  This  is  particularly  the  case  in  the 
country  around  Fairport,  which  is,  generally  speaking, 
open,  unenclosed,  and  bare.  But  here  and  there  the 
progress  of  rills  or  small  rivers  has  formed  dells,  glens,  or, 
as  they  are  provincially  termed,  'dens,'  on  whose  high 
and  rocky  banks  trees  and  shrubs  of  all  kinds  find  a 
shelter,  and  grow  with  a  luxuriant  profusion,  which  is 
the  more  gratifying  as  it  forms  an  unexpected  contrast 
with  the  general  face  of  the  country.  This  was  eminently 
the  case  with  the  approach  to  the  ruins  of  St.  Ruth, 
which  was  for  some  time  merely  a  sheep-track  along  the 
side  of  a  steep  and  bare  hill.  By  degrees,  however,  as 
this  path  descended  and  winded  round  the  hillside,  trees 
began  to  appear,  at  first  singly,  stunted,  and  blighted, 
with  locks  of  wool  upon  their  trunks,  and  their  roots 
hollowed  out  into  recesses,  in  which  the  sheep  love  to 
repose  themselves  —  a  sight  much  more  gratifying  to 


207 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


the  eye  of  an  admirer  of  the  picturesque  than  to  that  of  a 
planter  or  forester.  By  and  by  the  trees  formed  groups, 
fringed  on  the  edges  and  filled  up  in  the  middle  by  thorns 
and  hazel  bushes;  and  at  length  these  groups  closed  so 
much  together  that,  although  a  broad  glade  opened  here 
and  there  under  their  boughs,  or  a  small  patch  of  bog 
or  heath  occurred  which  had  refused  nourishment  to  the 
seed  which  they  sprinkled  round,  and  consequently 
remained  open  and  waste,  the  scene  might  on  the  whole 
be  termed  decidedly  woodland.  The  sides  of  the  valley 
began  to  approach  each  other  more  closely;  the  rush  of  a 
brook  was  heard  below,  and,  between  the  intervals  af- 
forded by  openings  in  the  natural  wood,  its  waters  were 
seen  hurHng  clear  and  rapid  under  their  silvan  canopy. 

Oldbuck  now  took  upon  himself  the  full  authority  of 
cicerone,  and  anxiously  directed  the  company  not  to  go  a 
footbreadth  off  the  track  which  he  pointed  out  to  them, 
if  they  wished  to  enjoy  in  full  perfection  what  they  came 
to  see.  'You  are  happy  in  me  for  a  guide.  Miss  War- 
dour,'  exclaimed  the  veteran,  waving  his  hand  and  head 
in  cadence  as  he  repeated  with  emphasis, 

*  I  know  each  lane,  and  every  alley  green, 
Dingle,  or  bushy  dell,  of  this  wild  wood, 
And  every  bosky  bower  from  side  to  side. 

Ah!  deuce  take  it!  that  spray  of  a  bramble  has  demol- 
ished all  Caxon's  labours,  and  nearly  canted  my  wig  into 
the  stream — so  much  for  recitations  hors  de  propos.^ 

*  Never  mind,  my  dear  sir,'  said  Miss  Wardour,  'you 
have  your  faithful  attendant  ready  to  repair  such  a  dis- 
aster when  it  happens,  and  when  you  appear  with  it  as 
restored  to  its  original  splendour  I  will  carry  on  the 
quotation: — 

208 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


So  sinks  the  day-star  in  the  ocean  bed, 

And  yet  anon  repairs  his  drooping  head, 

And  tricks  his  beams,  and  with  new-spangled  ore 

Flames  on  the  forehead  — ' 

'O  enough,  enough!'  answered  Oldbuck;  'I  ought  to 
have  known  what  it  was  to  give  you  advantage  over  me. 
But  here  is  what  will  stop  your  career  of  satire,  for  you 
are  an  admirer  of  nature  I  know.'  In  fact,  when  they 
had  followed  him  through  a  breach  in  a  low,  ancient,  and 
ruinous  wall,  they  came  suddenly  upon  a  scene  equally 
unexpected  and  interesting. 

They  stood  pretty  high  upon  the  side  of  the  glen, 
which  had  suddenly  opened  into  a  sort  of  amphitheatre 
to  give  room  for  a  pure  and  profound  lake  of  a  few  acres 
extent,  and  a  space  of  level  ground  around  it.  The  banks 
then  arose  everywhere  steeply,  and  in  some  places  were 
varied  by  rocks,  in  others  covered  with  the  copse  which 
run  up,  feathering  their  sides  lightly  and  irregularly,  and 
breaking  the  uniformity  of  the  green  pasture-ground. 
Beneath,  the  lake  discharged  itself  into  the  huddling  and 
tumultuous  brook  which  had  been  their  companion  since 
they  had  entered  the  glen.  At  the  point  at  which  it 
issued  from  4ts  parent  lake'  stood  the  ruins  which  they 
had  come  to  visit.  They  were  not  of  great  extent;  but 
the  singular  beauty,  as  well  as  the  wild  and  sequestered 
character,  of  the  spot  on  which  they  were  situated  gave 
them  an  interest  and  importance  superior  to  that  which 
attaches  itself  to  architectural  remains  of  greater  con- 
sequence, but  placed  near  to  ordinary  houses,  and  pos- 
sessing less  romantic  accompaniments.  The  eastern 
window  of  the  church  remained  entire,  with  all  its  orna- 
ments and  tracery  work,  and  the  sides  upheld  by  flying 
5  209 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


buttresses,  whose  airy  support,  detached  from  the  wall 
against  which  they  were  placed,  and  ornamented  with 
pinnacles  and  carved  work,  gave  a  variety  and  hght- 
ness  to  the  building.  The  roof  and  western  end  of  the 
church  were  completely  ruinous,  but  the  latter  appeared 
to  have  made  one  side  of  a  square,  of  which  the  ruins  of 
the  conventual  buildings  formed  other  two,  and  the 
gardens  a  fourth.  The  side  of  these  buildings  which 
overhung  the  brook  was  partly  founded  on  a  steep  and 
precipitous  rock;  for  the  place  had  been  occasionally 
turned  to  miHtary  purposes,  and  had  been  taken  with 
great  slaughter  during  Montrose's  wars.  The  ground 
formerly  occupied  by  the  garden  was  still  marked  by  a 
few  orchard  trees.  At  a  greater  distance  from  the  build- 
ings were  detached  oaks  and  elms  and  chestnuts  grow- 
ing singly,  which  had  attained  great  size.  The  rest  of  the 
space  between  the  ruins  and  the  hill  was  a  close-cropt 
sward,  which  the  daily  pasture  of  the  sheep  kept  in 
much  finer  order  than  if  it  had  been  subjected  to  the 
scythe  and  broom.  The  whole  scene  had  a  repose  which 
was  still  and  affecting  without  being  monotonous.  The 
dark,  deep  basin  in  which  the  clear  blue  lake  reposed, 
reflecting  the  water  hlies  which  grew  on  its  surface,  and 
the  trees  which  here  and  there  threw  their  arms  from 
the  banks,  was  finely  contrasted  with  the  haste  and 
tumult  of  the  brook,  which  broke  away  from  the  outlet 
as  if  escaping  from  confinement  and  hurried  down  the 
glen,  wheeling  around  the  base  of  the  rock  on  which  the 
ruins  were  situated,  and  brawling  in  foam  and  fury  with 
every  shelve  and  stone  which  obstructed  its  passage. 
A  similar  contrast  was  seen  between  the  level  green 
meadow  in  which  the  ruins  were  situated,  and  the  large 


210 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

timber  trees  which  were  scattered  over  it,  compared 
with  the  precipitous  banks  which  arose  at  a  short  dis- 
tance around,  partly  fringed  with  light  and  feathery 
underwood,  partly  rising  in  steeps  clothed  with  purple 
heath,  and  partly  more  abruptly  elevated  into  fronts  of 
grey  rock  chequered  with  lichen,  and  with  those  hardy 
plants  which  find  root  even  in  the  most  arid  crevices  of 
the  crags. 

*  There  was  the  retreat  of  learning  in  the  days  of  dark- 
ness, Mr.  Lovel,'  said  Oldbuck,  around  whom  the  com- 
pany had  now  grouped  themselves  while  they  admired 
the  unexpected  opening  of  a  prospect  so  romantic — ■ 
'  there  reposed  the  sages  who  were  aweary  of  the  world, 
and  devoted  either  to  that  which  was  to  come  or  to  the 
service  of  the  generations  who  should  follow  them  in 
this.  I  will  show  you  presently  the  library:  see  that 
stretch  of  wall  with  square-shafted  windows  —  there  it 
existed,  stored,  as  an  old  manuscript  in  my  possession 
assures  me,  with  five  thousand  volumes.  And  here  I 
might  well  take  up  the  lamentation  of  the  learned 
Leland,  who,  regretting  the  downfall  of  the  conventual 
libraries,  exclaims,  Hke  Rachael  weeping  for  her  children, 
that  if  the  papal  laws,  decrees,  decretals,  Clementines, 
and  other  such  drugs  of  the  devil,  yea,  if  Heytesbury's 
sophisms.  Porphyry's  universals,  Aristotle's  logic,  and 
Dunse's  divinity,  with  such  other  lousy  legerdemains 
(begging  your  pardon.  Miss  Wardour)  and  fruits  of  the 
bottomless  pit,  had  leapt  out  of  our  libraries,  for  the 
accommodation  of  grocers,  candle-makers,  soap-sellers, 
and  other  worldly  occupiers,  we  might  have  been  there- 
with contented.  But  to  put  our  ancient  chronicles,  our 
noble  histories,  our  learned  commentaries  and  national 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


muniments,  to  such  offices  of  contempt  and  subjection 
has  greatly  degraded  our  nation,  and  showed  ourselves 
dishonoured  in  the  eyes  of  posterity  to  the  utmost 
stretch  of  time.  O  negligence  most  unfriendly  to  our 
land!' 

^And,  O  John  Knox,'  said  the  Baronet,  through 
whose  influence,  and  under  whose  auspices,  the  patriotic 
task  was  accomplished ! ' 

The  Antiquary,  somewhat  in  the  situation  of  a  wood- 
cock  caught  in  his  own  springe,  turned  short  round  and 
coughed  to  excuse  a  sUght  blush,  as  he  mustered  his 
answer  —  *  As  to  the  Apostle  of  the  Scottish  Reforma- 
tion— ' 

But  Miss  Wardour  broke  in  to  interrupt  a  conversa- 
tion so  dangerous  —  'Pray,  who  was  the  author  you 
quoted,  Mr.  Oldbuck?' 

'The  learned  Leland,  Miss  Wardour,  who  lost  his 
senses  on  witnessing  the  destruction  of  the  conventual 
libraries  in  England.' 

'Now  I  think/  repHed  the  young  lady,  'his  misfortune 
may  have  saved  the  rationality  of  some  modern  anti- 
quaries, which  would  certainly  have  been  drowned  if 
so  vast  a  lake  of  learning  had  not  been  diminished  by 
draining.' . 

'Well,  thank  Heaven,  there  is  no  danger  now:  they 
have  hardly  left  us  a  spoonful  in  which  to  perform  the 
dire  feat.' 

So  saying,  Mr.  Oldbuck  led  the  way  down  the  bank 
by  a  steep  but  secure  path,  which  soon  placed  them  on 
the  verdant  meadow  where  the  ruins  stood.  'There 
they  lived,'  continued  the  Antiquary,  'with  nought  to 
do  but  to  spend  their  time  in  investigating  points  of 

212 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

remote  antiquity,  transcribing  manuscripts,  and  com- 
posing new  works  for  the  information  of  posterity.' 

^And,'  added  the  Baronet,  ^in  exercising  the  rites  of 
devotion  with  a  pomp  and  ceremonial  worthy  of  the 
oiaice  of  the  priesthood.' 

'And  if  Sir  Arthur's  excellence  will  permit,'  said  the 
German,  with  a  low  bow,  Hhe  monksh  might  also  make 
de  vary  curious  experiment  in  deir  laboraties,  both  in 
chemistry  and  magia  naturalis,^ 

*I  think,'  said  the  clergyman,  Hhey  would  have 
enough  to  do  in  collecting  the  teinds  of  the  parsonage 
and  vicarage  of  three  good  parishes.' 

'And  all,'  added  Miss  Wardour,  nodding  to  the  Anti- 
quary, 'without  interruption  from  womankind.' 

'True,  my  fair  foe,'  said  Oldbuck;  'this  was  a  para- 
dise where  no  Eve  was  admitted,  and  we  may  wonder 
the  rather  by  what  chance  the  good  fathers  came  to  lose 
it.' 

With  such  criticisms  on  the  occupations  of  those  by 
whom  the  ruins  had  been  formerly  possessed,  they 
wandered  for  some  time  from  one  moss-grown  shrine  to 
another,  under  the  guidance  of  Oldbuck,  who  explained 
with  much  plausibihty  the  ground-plan  of  the  edifice, 
and  read  and  expounded  to  the  company  the  various 
mouldering  inscriptions  which  yet  were  to  be  traced 
upon  the  tombs  of  the  dead,  or  under  the  vacant  niches 
of  the  sainted  images.  'What  is  the  reason,'  at  length 
Miss  Wardour  asked  the  Antiquary,  'why  tradition  has 
preserved  to  us  such  meagre  accounts  of  the  inmates  of 
these  stately  edifices,  raised  with  such  expense  of  labour 
and  taste,  and  whose  owners  were  in  their  times  person- 
ages of  such  awful  power  and  importance?  The  mean- 

213 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


est  tower  of  a  freebooting  baron  or  squire  who  lived  by 
his  lance  and  broadsword  is  consecrated  by  its  appro- 
priate legend,  and  the  shepherd  will  tell  you  with  ac- 
curacy the  names  and  feats  of  its  inhabitants;  but  ask 
a  countryman  concerning  these  beautiful  and  extensive 
remains  —  these  towers,  these  arches  and  buttresses 
and  shafted  windows,  reared  at  such  cost,  three  words 
fill  up  his  answer  —  ^'they  were  made  by  the  monks 
lang  syne."' 

The  question  was  somewhat  puzzling.  Sir  Arthur 
looked  upward,  as  if  hoping  to  be  inspired  with  an  an- 
swer; Oldbuck  shoved  back  his  wig;  the  clergyman  was 
of  opinion  that  his  parishioners  were  too  deeply  im- 
pressed with  the  true  Presbyterian  doctrine  to  preserve 
any  records  concerning  the  papistical  cumberers  of  the 
land,  offshoots  as  they  were  of  the  great  over-shadowing 
tree  of  iniquity,  whose  roots  are  in  the  bowels  of  the 
seven  hills  of  abomination;  Lovel  thought  the  question 
was  best  resolved  by  considering  what  are  the  events 
which  leave  the  deepest  impression  on  the  minds  of  the 
common  people.  ^ These,'  he  contended,  'were  not  such 
as  resemble  the  gradual  progress  of  a  fertilising  river, 
but  the  headlong  and  precipitous  fury  of  some  portent- 
ous flood.  The  eras  by  which  the  vulgar  compute  time 
have  always  reference  to  some  period  of  fear  and  tribula- 
tion, and  they  date  by  a  tempest,  an  earthquake,  or 
burst  of  civil  commotion.  When  such  are  the  facts  most 
aHve  in  the  memory  of  the  common  people,  we  cannot 
wonder,'  he  concluded,  Hhat  the  ferocious  warrior  is 
remembered,  and  the  peaceful  abbots  are  abandoned  to 
forge tfulness  and  oblivion.' 

'If  you  pleashe,  gentlemans  and  ladies,  and  ashking 

214 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

pardon  of  Sir  Arthur  and  Miss  Wardour,  and  this 
worthy  clergymansh,  and  my  goot  friend  Mr.  Olden- 
buck,  who  is  my  countrymansh,  and  of  goot  young 
Mr.  Lofel  also,  I  think  it  is  all  owing  to  de  hand  of 
glory.' 

^The  hand  of  what?'  exclaimed  Oldbuck. 

^De  hand  of  glory,  my  goot  Master  Oldenbuck,  which 
is  a  vary  great  and  terrible  secrets,  which  de  monksh 
used  to  conceal  their  treasures  when  they  were  triven 
from  their  cloisters  by  what  you  call  de  Reform.' 

*Ay,  indeed!  tell  us  about  that,'  said  Oldbuck,  'for 
these  are  secrets  worth  knowing.' 

'Why,  my  goot  Master  Oldenbuck,  you  will  only 
laugh  at  me.  But  de  hand  of  glory  is  vary  well  known 
in  de  countries  where  your  worthy  progenitors  did  live, 
and  it  is  hand  cut  off  from  a  dead  man  as  has  been 
hanged  for  murther,  and  dried  very  nice  in  de  shmoke 
of  juniper  wood,  and  if  you  put  a  little  of  what  you  call 
yew  wid  your  juniper  it  will  not  be  any  better  —  that  is, 
it  will  not  be  no  worse;  then  you  do  take  something  of 
de  fatsh  of  de  bear,  and  of  de  badger,  and  of  de  great 
eber,  as  you  call  de  grand  boar,  and  of  de  little  sucking 
child  as  has  not  been  christened  —  for  dat  is  very  es- 
sentials, —  and  you  do  make  a  candle,  and  put  it  into 
de  hand  of  glory  at  de  proper  hour  and  minute,  with  de 
proper  ceremonish,  and  he  who  seeksh  for  treasuresh 
shall  never  find  none  at  all.' 

'I  dare  take  my  corporal  oath  of  that  conclusion,'  said 
the  Antiquary.  'And  was  it  the  custom,  Mr.  Douster- 
swivel,  in  Westphalia  to  make  use  of  this  elegant  cande- 
labrum?' 

'Alwaysh,  Mr.  Oldenbuck,  when  you  did  not  want 

2IS 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


nobody  to  talk  of  nothing  you  wash  doing  about.  And 
de  monksh  alwaysh  did  this  when  they  did  hide  their 
church  plates,  and  their  great  chalices,  and  de  rings, 
wid  very  preshious  shtones  and  jewels.' 

'But,  notwithstanding,  you  knights  of  the  Rosy  Cross 
have  means,  no  doubt,  of  breaking  the  spell,  and  dis- 
covering what  the  poor  monks  have  put  themselves  to 
so  much  trouble  to  conceal?' 

'Ah!  goot  Mr.  Oldenbuck,'  replied  the  adept,  shaking 
his  head  mysteriously,  'you  was  very  hard  to  believe; 
but  if  you  had  seen  de  great  huge  pieces  of  de  plate  so 
massive,  Sir  Arthur,  so  fine  fashion.  Miss  Wardour,  and 
de  silver  cross  dat  we  did  find  —  dat  was  Schroepfer  and 
my  ownself  —  for  de  Herr  Freygraff ,  as  you  call  de 
Baron  von  Blunderhaus,  I  do  beheve  you  would  have 
believed  then.' 

'  Seeing  is  beHeving  indeed.  But  what  was  your  art 
—  what  was  your  mystery,  Mr.  Dousterswivel?' 

'Aha,  Mr.  Oldenbuck,  dat  is  my  Uttle  secret,  mine 
goot  sir;  you  sail  forgife  me  that  I  not  tell  that.  But 
I  will  tell  you  dere  are  various  ways;  yes,  indeed,  dere 
is  de  dream  dat  you  dream  tree  times,  dat  is  a  vary 
goot  way.' 

'I  am  glad  of  that,'  said  Oldbuck;  'I  have  a  friend 
(with  a  side-glance  to  Lovel)  who  is  peculiarly  favoured 
by  the  visits  of  Queen  Mab.' 

'Den  dere  is  de  sympathies  and  de  antipathies,  and 
de  strange  properties  and  virtues  natural  of  divers  herb 
and  of  de  Uttle  divining  rod.' 

'I  would  gladly  rather  see  some  of  these  wonders 
than  hear  of  them,'  said  Miss  Wardour. 

'Ah,  but,  my  much-honoured  young  lady,  this  is  not 
216 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

de  time  or  de  way  to  do  de  great  wonder  of  finding  all  de 
church's  plate  and  treasure;  but  to  oblige  you,  and  Sir 
Arthur  my  patron,  and  de  reverend  clergymans,  and 
goot  Mr.  Oldenbuck,  and  young  Mr.  Lofel,  who  is  a 
very  goot  young  gentleman  also,  I  will  show  you  dat 
it  is  possible,  a  vary  possible,  to  discover  de  spring  of 
water  and  de  little  fountain  hidden  in  de  ground,  with- 
out any  mattock  or  spade  or  dig  at  all.' 

^IJmph!'  quoth  the  Antiquary,  *  I  have  heard  of  that 
conundrum.  That  will  be  no  very  productive  art  in  our 
country;  you  should  carry  that  property  to  Spain  or 
Portugal  and  turn  it  to  good  account.' 

*Ah!  my  goot  Master  Oldenbuck,  dere  is  de  Inquisi- 
tion and  de  auto-da-fe:  they  would  burn  me,  who  am 
but  a  simple  philosopher,  for  one  great  conjurer.' 

'They  would  cast  away  their  coals  then,'  said  Old- 
buck;  *but,'  continued  he,  in  a  whisper  to  Lovel,  Vera 
they  to  pillory  him  for  one  of  the  most  impudent  rascals 
that  ever  wagged  a  tongue,  they  would  square  the  pun- 
ishment more  accurately  with  his  deserts.  But  let  us 
see,  I  think  he  is  about  to  show  us  some  of  his  legerde- 
main.' 

In  truth  the  German  was  now  got  to  a  little  copse- 
thicket  at  some  distance  from  the  ruins,  where  he  af- 
fected busily  to  search  for  such  a  wand  as  should  suit 
the  purpose  of  his  mystery;  and,  after  cutting  and  ex- 
amining and  rejecting  several,  he  at  length  provided 
himself  with  a  small  twig  of  hazel  terminating  in  a 
forked  end,  which  he  pronounced  to  possess  the  virtue 
proper  for  the  experiment  that  he  was  about  to  exhibit. 
Holding  the  forked  ends  of  the  wand  each  between  a 
finger  and  thumb,  and  thus  keeping  the  rod  upright,  he 

217 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


proceeded  to  pace  the  ruined  aisles  and  cloisters,  fol- 
lowed by  the  rest  of  the  company  in  admiring  procession. 

believe  dere  was  no  waters  here/  said  the  adept, 
when  he  had  made  the  round  of  several  of  the  buildings, 
without  perceiving  any  of  those  indications  which  he 
pretended  to  expect  —  beUeve  those  Scotch  monksh 
did  find  de  water  too  cool  for  de  climate,  and  alwaysh 
drank  de  goot  comfortable  Rhine  wine  —  but,  aha!  see 
there.'  Accordingly,  the  assistants  observed  the  rod  to 
turn  in  his  fingers,  although  he  pretended  to  hold  it  very 
tight.  ^Dere  is  water  here  about  sure  enough,'  and, 
turning  this  way  and  that  way,  as  the  agitation  of  the 
divining  rod  seemed  to  increase  or  diminish,  he  at  length 
advanced  into  the  midst  of  a  vacant  and  roofless  enclos- 
ure, which  had  been  the  kitchen  of  the  priory,  when  the 
rod  twisted  itself  so  as  to  point  almost  straight  down- 
wards. 'Here  is  de  place,'  said  the  adept,  'and  if  you 
do  not  find  de  water  here  I  will  give  you  all  leave  to  call 
me  an  impudent  knave.' 

'I  shall  take  that  Ucense,'  whispered  the  Antiquary  to 
Lovel,  'whether  the  water  is  discovered  or  no.' 

A  servant,  who  had  come  up  with  a  basket  of  cold 
refreshments,  was  now  despatched  to  a  neighbouring 
forester's  hut  for  a  mattock  and  pick-axe.  The  loose 
stones  and  rubbish  being  removed  from  the  spot  indi- 
cated by  the  German,  they  soon  came  to  the  sides  of  a 
regularly  built  well;  and,  when  a  few  feet  of  rubbish 
were  cleared  out  by  the  assistance  of  the  forester  and  his 
sons,  the  water  began  to  rise  rapidly,  to  the  deKght  of 
the  philosopher,  the  astonishment  of  the  ladies,  Mr. 
Blattergowl,  and  Sir  Arthur,  the  surprise  of  Lovel,  and 
the  confusion  of  the  incredulous  Antiquary.  He  did  not 

218 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


fail,  however,  to  enter  his  protest  in  LovePs  ear  against 
the  miracle.  ^This  is  a  mere  trick,'  he  said;  Hhe  rascal 
had  made  himself  sure  of  the  existence  of  this  old  well, 
by  some  means  or  other,  before  he  played  off  this  mys- 
tical piece  of  jugglery,  Mark  what  he  talks  of  next.  I 
am  much  mistaken  if  this  is  not  intended  as  a  prelude 
to  some  more  serious  fraud;  see  how  the  rascal  assumes 
consequence,  and  plumes  himself  upon  the  credit  of  his 
success,  and  how  poor  Sir  Arthur  takes  in  the  tide  of 
nonsense  which  he  is  delivering  to  him  as  principles  of 
occult  science!' 

'You  do  see,  my  goot  patron,  you  do  see,  my  goot 
ladies,  you  do  see,  worthy  Dr.  Bladderhowl,  and  even 
Mr.  Lofel  and  Mr.  Oldenbuck  may  see,  if  they  do  will 
to  see,  how  art  has  no  enemy  at  all  but  ignorance.  Look 
at  this  little  slip  of  hazel  nuts,  it  is  fit  for  nothing  at  all 
but  to  whip  de  little  child'  CI  would  choose  a  cat  and 
nine  tails  for  your  occasions,'  whispered  Oldbuck 
apart),  'and  you  put  it  in  the  hands  of  a  philosopher, 
paf !  it  makes  de  grand  discovery.  But  this  is  nothing, 
Sir  Arthur,  nothing  at  all,  worthy  Dr.  Botherhowl,  no- 
thing at  all,  ladies,  nothing  at  all,  young  Mr.  Lofel 
and  goot  Mr.  Oldenbuck,  to  what  art  can  do.  Ah !  if  dere 
was  any  man  that  had  de  spirit  and  de  courage  I  would 
show  him  better  things  than  de  well  of  water,  I  would 
show  him  — ' 

'And  a  little  money  would  be  necessary  also,  would  it 
not? '  said  the  Antiquary. 

'Bah!  one  trifle,  not  worth  talking  about,  might  be 
necessaries,'  answered  the  adept. 

'I  thought  as  much,'  rejoined  the  Antiquary,  drily; 
*and  I,  in  the  meanwhile,  without  any  divining  rod, 

219 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


will  show  you  an  excellent  venison  pasty  and  a  bottle 
of  London  particular  Madeira,  and  I  think  that  will 
match  all  that  Mr.  Dousterswivers  art  is  like  to 
exhibit.' 

The  feast  was  spread  fronde  super  viridi,  as  Oldbuck 
expressed  himself,  under  a  huge  old  tree,  called  the 
Prior's  Oak,  and  the  company  sitting  down  around  it 
did  ample  honour  to  the  contents  of  the  basket. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 


As  when  a  gryphon  through  the  wilderness, 
With  winged  course,  o'er  hill  and  moory  dale, 
Pursues  the  Arimaspian,  who  by  stealth 
Had  from  his  wakeful  custody  purloin'd 
The  guarded  gold,  so  eagerly  the  Fiend  — 

Paradise  Lost, 

When  their  collation  was  ended,  Sir  Arthur  resumed 
the  account  of  the  mysteries  of  the  divining  rod,  as  a 
subject  on  which  he  had  formerly  conversed  with  Dous- 
terswivel.  *My  friend  Mr.  Oldbuck  will  now  be  pre- 
pared, Mr.  Dousterswivel,  to  Hsten  with  more  respect 
to  the  stories  you  have  told  us  of  the  late  discoveries  in 
Germany  by  the  brethren  of  your  association.' 

*  Ah,  Sir  Arthur,  that  was  not  a  thing  to  speak  to  those 
gentlemans,  because  it  is  want  of  credulity  —  what  you 
call  faith  —  that  spoils  the  great  enterprise.' 

^  At  least,  however,  let  my  daughter  read  the  narrat- 
ive she  has  taken  down  of  the  story  of  Martin  Waldeck.' 

'Ah,  that  was  very  true  story;  but  Miss  Wardour, 
she  is  so  sly  and  so  witty  that  she  has  made  it  just  like 
one  romance,  as  well  as  Goethe  or  Wieland  could  have 
done  it,  by  mine  honest  wort.' 

*To  say  the  truth,  Mr.  Dousterswivel,'  answered  Miss 
Wardour,  *  the  romantic  predominated  in  the  legend  so 
much  above  the  probable  that  it  was  impossible  for  a 
lover  of  fairyland  like  me  to  avoid  lending  a  few  touches 
to  make  it  perfect  in  its  kind.  But  here  it  is,  and  if  you 
do  not  incline  to  leave  this  shade  till  the  heat  of  the  day 
has  somewhat  decUned,  and  will  have  sympathy  with 

221 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


my  bad  composition,  perhaps  Sir  Arthur  or  Mr.  Old- 
buck  will  read  it  to  us.' 

^Not  1/  said  Sir  Arthur;  was  never  fond  of  reading 
aloud.' 

^Nor  1/  said  Oldbuck,  ^for  I  have  forgot  my  spec- 
tacles; but  here  is  Lovel,  with  sharp  eyes  and  a  good 
voice,  for  Mr.  Blattergowl,  I  know,  never  reads  any- 
thing, lest  he  should  be  suspected  of  reading  his  ser- 
mons.' 

The  task  was  therefore  imposed  upon  Lovel,  who  re- 
ceived with  some  trepidation,  as  Miss  Wardour  deliv- 
ered with  a  little  embarrassment,  a  paper  containing  the 
lines  traced  by  that  fair  hand,  the  possession  of  which 
he  coveted  as  the  highest  blessing  the  earth  could  offer 
to  him.  But  there  was  a  necessity  of  suppressing  his 
emotions;  and,  after  glancing  over  the  manuscript,  as 
if  to  become  acquainted  with  the  character,  he  collected 
himself  and  read  the  company  the  following  tale:  — 

Cj)e  iFortunefi  o!  JWarttn  W^ttfi^ 

The  solitudes  of  the  Harz  forest  in  Germany,  but 
especially  the  mountains  called  Blocksberg,  or  rather 
Brockenberg,  are  the  chosen  scenes  for  tales  of  witches, 
demons,  and  apparitions.  The  occupation  of  the  inhabit- 
ants, who  are  either  miners  or  foresters,  is  of  a  kind  that 
renders  them  peculiarly  prone  to  superstition,  and  the 
natural  phenomena  which  they  witness  in  pursuit  of 
their  solitary  or  subterraneous  profession  are  often  set 
down  by  them  to  the  interference  of  goblins  or  the  power 
of  magic.  Among  the  various  legends  current  in  that 
^  See  Note  3. 
222 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


wild  country,  there  is  a  favourite  one,  which  supposes 
theHarz  to  be  haunted  by  a  sort  of  tutelar  demon,  in  the 
shape  of  a  wild  man,  of  huge  stature,  his  head  wreathed 
with  oak  leaves,  and  his  middle  cinctured  with  the  same, 
bearing  in  his  hand  a  pine  torn  up  by  the  roots.  It  is  cer- 
tain that  may  persons  profess  to  have  seen  such  a  form 
traversing,  with  huge  strides,  in  a  line  parallel  to  their 
own  course,  the  opposite  ridge  of  a  mountain,  when 
divided  from  it  by  a  narrow  glen;  and  indeed  the  fact 
of  the  apparition  is  so  generally  admitted  that  modern 
scepticism  has  only  found  refuge  by  ascribing  it  to 
optical  deception.^ 

In  elder  times,  the  intercourse  of  the  demon  with  the 
inhabitants  was  more  famihar,  and,  according  to  the 
traditions  of  the  Harz,  he  was  wont,  with  the  caprice 
usually  ascribed  to  these  earth-born  powers,  to  inter- 
fere with  the  affairs  of  mortals,  sometimes  for  their 
weal,  sometimes  for  their  woe.  But  it  was  observed  that 
even  his  gifts  often  turned  out  in  the  long  run  fatal  to 
those  on  whom  they  were  bestowed,  and  it  was  no  un- 
common thing  for  the  pastors,  in  their  care  of  their 
flocks,  to  compose  long  sermons,  the  burden  whereof 
was  a  warning  against  having  any  intercourse,  direct 
or  indirect,  with  the  Harz  demon.  The  fortunes  of 
Martin  Waldeck  have  been  often  quoted  by  the  aged 
to  their  giddy  children,  when  they  were  heard  to  scoff 
at  a  danger  which  appeared  visionary. 

A  travelling  capuchin  had  possessed  himself  of  the 
pulpit  of  the  thatched  church  at  a  little  hamlet  called 
Morgenbrodt,  lying  in  the  Harz  district,  from  which 
he  declaimed  against  the  wickedness  of  the  inhabitants, 
^  See  Note  4. 
223 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


their  communication  with  fiends,  witches,  and  fairies, 
and,  in  particular,  with  the  woodland  goblin  of  the  Harz. 
The  doctrines  of  Luther  had  already  begun  to  spread 
among  the  peasantry,  for  the  incident  is  placed  under 
the  reign  of  Charles  V,  and  they  laughed  to  scorn  the 
zeal  with  which  the  venerable  man  insisted  upon  his 
topic.  At  length,  as  his  vehemence  increased  with  op- 
position, so  their  opposition  rose  in  proportion  to  his 
vehemence.  The  inhabitants  did  not  like  to  hear  an 
accustomed  quiet  demon,  who  had  inhabited  the  Brock- 
enberg  for  so  many  ages,  summarily  confounded  with 
Baal-peor,  Ashtaroth,  and  Beelzebub  himself,  and  con- 
demned without  reprieve  to  the  bottomless  Tophet. 
The  apprehensions  that  the  spirit  might  avenge  himself 
on  them  for  listening  to  such  an  illiberal  sentence  added 
to  their  national  interest  in  his  behalf.  A  travelling  friar, 
they  said,  that  is  here  to-day  and  away  to-morrow,  may 
say  what  he  pleases;  but  it  is  we,  the  ancient  and  con- 
stant inhabitants  of  the  country,  that  are  left  at  the 
mercy  of  the  insulted  demon,  and  must,  of  course,  pay 
for  all.  Under  the  irritation  occasioned  by  these  re- 
flections, the  peasants  from  injurious  language  betook 
themselves  to  stones,  and  having  pebbled  the  priest 
pretty  handsomely,  they  drove  him  out  of  the  parish 
to  preach  against  demons  elsewhere. 

Three  young  men,  who  had  been  present  and  assist- 
ing on  this  occasion,  were  upon  their  return  to  the  hut 
where  they  carried  on  the  laborious  and  mean  occupa- 
tion of  preparing  charcoal  for  the  smelting  furnaces. 
On  the  way  their  conversation  naturally  turned  upon 
the  demon  of  the  Harz  and  the  doctrine  of  the  capuchin. 
Max  and  George  Waldeck,  the  two  elder  brothers,  al- 


224 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

though  they  allowed  the  language  of  the  capuchin  to 
have  been  indiscreet  and  worthy  of  censure,  as  presum- 
ing to  determine  upon  the  precise  character  and  abode 
of  the  spirit,  yet  contended  it  was  dangerous,  in  the 
highest  degree,  to  accept  of  his  gifts  or  hold  any  com- 
munication with  him.  He  was  powerful,  they  allowed, 
but  wayward  and  capricious,  and  those  who  had  inter- 
course with  him  seldom  came  to  a  good  end.  Did  he 
not  give  the  brave  knight,  Ecbert  of  Rabenwald,  that 
famous  black  steed  by  means  of  which  he  vanquished 
all  the  champions  at  the  great  tournament  at  Bremen? 
and  did  not  the  same  steed  afterwards  precipitate  itself 
with  its  rider  into  an  abyss  so  steep  and  fearful  that 
neither  horse  nor  man  were  ever  seen  more?  Had  he 
not  given  to  Dame  Gertrude  Trodden  a  curious  spell  for 
making  butter  come?  and  was  she  not  burnt  for  a  witch 
by  the  grand  criminal  judge  of  the  Electorate  because 
she  availed  herself  of  his  gift?  But  these,  and  many  other 
instances  which  they  quoted,  of  mischance  and  ill-luck 
ultimately  attending  on  the  apparent  benefits  conferred 
by  the  Harz  spirit,  failed  to  make  any  impression  upon 
Martin  Waldeck,  the  youngest  of  the  brothers. 

Martin  was  youthful,  rash,  and  impetuous,  excelling 
in  all  the  exercises  which  distinguish  a  mountaineer,  and 
brave  and  undaunted  from  his  familiar  intercourse  with 
the  dangers  that  attend  them.  He  laughed  at  the  timid- 
ity of  his  brothers.  'Tell  me  not  of  such  folly,'  he  said; 
Hhe  demon  is  a  good  demon.  He  lives  among  us  as  if 
he  were  a  peasant  like  ourselves,  haunts  the  lonely 
crags  and  recesses  of  the  mountains  like  a  huntsman  or 
goatherd;  and  he  who  loves  the  Harz  forest  and  its 
wild  scenes  cannot  be  indifferent  to  the  fate  of  the  hardy 

S  22S 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


children  of  the  soil.  But,  if  the  demon  were  as  malicious 
as  you  would  make  him,  how  should  he  derive  power 
over  mortals  who  barely  avail  themselves  of  his  gifts, 
without  binding  themselves  to  submit  to  his  pleasure? 
When  you  carry  your  charcoal  to  the  furnace,  is  not  the 
money  as  good  that  is  paid  you  by  blaspheming  Blaize, 
the  old  reprobate  ovesseer,  as  if  you  got  it  from  the 
pastor  himself?  It  is  not  the  goblin's  gifts  which  can 
endanger  you  then,  but  it  is  the  use  you  shall  make  of 
them  that  you  must  account  for.  And  were  the  demon 
to  appear  to  me  at  this  moment,  and  indicate  to  me  a 
gold  or  silver  mine,  I  would  begin  to  dig  away  even  be- 
fore his  back  were  turned,  and  I  would  consider  myself 
as  under  protection  of  a  much  Greater  than  he,  while 
I  made  a  good  use  of  the  wealth  he  pointed  out  to  me.' 

To  this  the  elder  brother  replied,  that  wealth  ill  won 
was  seldom  well  spent;  while  Martin  presumptuously 
declared  that  the  possession  of  all  the  treasures  of  the 
Harz  would  not  make  the  slightest  alteration  on  his 
habits,  morals,  or  character. 

His  brother  entreated  Martin  to  talk  less  wildly  upon 
the  subject,  and  with  some  difficulty  contrived  to  with- 
draw his  attention  by  calling  it  to  the  consideration  of 
the  approaching  boar-chase.  This  talk  brought  them  to 
their  hut,  a  wretched  wigwam,  situated  upon  one  side  of 
a  wild,  narrow,  and  romantic  dell,  in  the  recesses  of  the 
Brockenberg.  They  released  their  sister  from  attending 
upon  the  operation  of  charring  the  wood,  which  requires 
constant  attention,  and  divided  among  themselves 
the  duty  of  watching  it  by  night,  according  to  their 
custom,  one  always  waking  while  his  brothers  slept. 

Max  Waldeck,  the  eldest,  watched  during  the  two 
226 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

first  hours  of  the  night,  and  was  considerably  alarmed 
by  observing  upon  the  opposite  bank  of  the  glen  or  val- 
ley a  huge  fire,  surrounded  by  some  figures  that  ap- 
peared to  wheel  around  it  with  antic  gestures.  Max  at 
first  bethought  him  of  calling  up  his  brothers;  but  recol- 
lecting the  daring  character  of  the  youngest,  and  finding 
it  impossible  to  wake  the  elder  without  also  disturbing 
Martin,  conceiving  also  what  he  saw  to  be  an  illusion  of 
the  demon,  sent  perhaps  in  consequence  of  the  ventur- 
ous expressions  used  by  Martin  on  the  preceding  even- 
ing, he  thought  it  best  to  betake  himself  to  the  safe- 
guard of  such  prayers  as  he  could  murmur  over,  and 
to  watch  in  great  terror  and  annoyance  this  strange 
and  alarming  apparition.  After  blazing  for  some  time, 
the  fire  faded  gradually  away  into  darkness,  and  the  rest 
of  Max's  watch  was  only  disturbed  by  the  remembrance 
of  its  terrors. 

George  now  occupied  the  place  of  Max,  who  had  re- 
tired to  rest.  The  phenomenon  of  a  huge  blazing  fire 
upon  the  opposite  bank  of  the  glen  again  presented  it- 
self to  the  eye  of  the  watchman.  It  was  surrounded  as 
before  by  figures,  which,  distinguished  by  their  opaque 
forms,  being  between  the  spectator  and  the  red  glaring 
light,  moved  and  fluctuated  around  it  as  if  engaged  in 
some  mystical  ceremony.  George,  though  equally  cau- 
tious, was  of  a  bolder  character  than  his  elder  brother. 
He  resolved  to  examine  more  nearly  the  object  of  his 
wonder;  and  accordingly,  after  crossing  the  rivulet  which 
divided  the  glen,  he  climbed  up  the  opposite  bank  and 
approached  within  an  arrow's  flight  of  the  fire,  which 
blazed  apparently  with  the  same  fury  as  when  he  first 
witnessed  it. 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


The  appearance  of  the  assistants  who  surrounded  it 
resembled  those  phantoms  which  are  seen  in  a  troubled 
dream,  and  at  once  confirmed  the  idea  he  had  enter- 
tained from  the  first,  that  they  did  not  belong  to  the 
human  world.  Amongst  these  strange  unearthly  forms 
George  Waldeck  distinguished  that  of  a  giant  over- 
grown with  hair,  holding  an  uprooted  fir  in  his  hand, 
with  which  from  time  to  time  he  seemed  to  stir  the  blaz- 
ing fire,  and  having  no  other  clothing  than  a  wreath  of 
oak  leaves  around  his  forehead  and  loins.  George's  heart 
sunk  within  him  at  recognising  the  well-known  appa- 
rition of  the  Harz  demon,  as  he  had  been  often  described 
to  him  by  the  ancient  shepherds  and  huntsmen  who  had 
seen  his  form  traversing  the  mountains.  He  turned  and 
was  about  to  fly;  but,  upon  second  thoughts,  blaming 
his  own  cowardice,  he  recited  mentally  the  verse  of  the 
Psalmist,  ^  All  good  angels,  praise  the  Lord!'  which  is 
in  that  country  supposed  powerful  as  an  exorcism,  and 
turned  himself  once  more  towards  the  place  where  he 
had  seen  the  fire.  But  it  was  no  longer  visible. 

The  pale  moon  alone  enlightened  the  side  of  the  val- 
ley; and  when  George,  with  trembling  steps,  a  moist 
brow,  and  hair  bristling  upright  under  his  coUier's  cap, 
came  to  the  spot  on  which  the  fire  had  been  so  lately 
visible,  marked  as  it  was  by  a  scathed  oak-tree,  there 
appeared  not  on  the  heath  the  slightest  vestiges  of 
what  he  had  seen.  The  moss  and  wild  flowers  were  un- 
scorched,  and  the  branches  of  the  oak-tree,  which  had 
so  lately  appeared  enveloped  in  wreaths  of  flame  and 
smoke,  were  moist  with  the  dews  of  midnight. 

George  returned  to  his  hut  with  trembling  steps,  and, 
arguing  like  his  elder  brother,  resolved  to  say  nothing 

228 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

of  what  he  had  seen,  lest  he  should  awake  in  Martin 
that  daring  curiosity  which  he  almost  deemed  to  be 
allied  with  impiety. 

It  was  now  Martin's  turn  to  watch.  The  household 
cock  had  given  his  first  summons,  and  the  night  was  well- 
nigh  spent.  Upon  examining  the  state  of  the  furnace  in 
which  the  wood  was  deposited  in  order  to  its  being  coked 
or  charred,  he  was  surprised  to  find  that  the  fire  had  not 
been  sufficiently  maintained;  for  in  his  excursion  and 
its  consequences  George  had  forgot  the  principal  object 
of  his  watch.  Martin's  first  thought  was  to  call  up  the 
slumberers;  but,  observing  that  both  his  brothers  slept 
unwontedly  deep  and  heavily,  he  respected  their  repose, 
and  set  himself  to  supply  the  furnace  with  fuel  without 
requiring  their  aid.  What  he  heaped  upon  it  was  ap- 
parently damp  and  unfit  for  the  purpose,  for  the  fire 
seemed  rather  to  decay  than  revive.  Martin  next  went 
to  collect  some  boughs  from  a  stack  which  had  been  care- 
fully cut  and  dried  for  this  purpose;  but  when  he  re- 
turned he  found  the  fire  totally  extinguished.  This  was 
a  serious  evil,  and  threatened  them  with  loss  of  their 
trade  for  more  than  one  day.  The  vexed  and  mortified 
watchman  set  about  to  strike  a  fight  in  order  to  rekindle 
the  fire,  but  the  tinder  was  moist  and  his  labour  proved 
in  this  respect  also  ineffectual.  He  was  now  about  to 
call  up  his  brothers,  for  circumstances  seemed  to  be  press- 
ing, when  flashes  of  Hght  glimmered  not  only  through  the 
window  but  through  every  crevice  of  the  rudely-built 
hut,  and  summoned  him  to  behold  the  same  apparition 
which  had  before  alarmed  the  successive  watches  of  his 
brethren.  His  first  idea  was  that  the  Muhllerhaussers, 
their  rivals  in  trade,  and  with  whom  they  had  had  many 

229 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


quarrels,  night  have  encroached  upon  their  bounds  for 
the  purpose  of  pirating  their  wood,  and  he  resolved  to 
awake  his  brothers  and  be  revenged  on  them  for  their 
audacity.  But  a  short  reflection  and  observation  on  the 
gestures  and  manner  of  those  who  seemed  to  ^work  in 
the  fire '  induced  him  to  dismiss  this  belief,  and,  although 
rather  sceptical  in  such  matters,  to  conclude  that  what 
he  saw  was  a  supernatural  phenomenon.  ^But  be  they 
men  or  fiends,'  said  the  undaunted  forester,  Hhat  busy 
themselves  yonder  with  such  fantastical  rites  and 
gestures,  I  will  go  and  demand  a  light  to  rekindle  our 
furnace.'  He  relinquished  at  the  same  time  the  idea  of 
awaking  his  brethren.  There  was  a  belief  that  such  ad- 
ventures as  he  was  about  to  undertake  were  accessible 
only  to  one  person  at  a  time;  he  feared  also  that  his 
brothers,  in  their  scrupulous  timidity,  might  interfere 
to  prevent  his  pursuing  the  investigation  he  had  re-^ 
solved  to  commence;  and,  therefore,  snatching  his  boar- 
spear  from  the  wall,  the  undaunted  Martin  Waldeck 
set  forth  on  the  adventure  alone. 

With  the  same  success  as  his  brother  George,  but  with 
courage  far  superior,  Martin  crossed  the  brook,  as- 
cended the  hill,  and  approached  so  near  the  ghostly 
assembly  that  he  could  recognise  in  the  presiding  figure 
the  attributes  of  the  Harz  demon.  A  cold  shuddering 
assailed  him  for  the  first  time  in  his  life;  but  the  recol- 
lection that  he  had  at  a  distance  dared,  and  even  courted, 
the  intercourse  which  was  now  about  to  take  place  con- 
firmed his  staggering  courage,  and  pride  supplying 
•  what  he  wanted  in  resolution,  he  advanced  with  toler- 
able firmness  towards  the  fire,  the  figures  which  sur- 
rounded it  appearing  still  more  wild^  fantastical,  and 

230 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

supernatural  the  more  near  he  approached  to  the  as- 
sembly. He  was  received  with  a  loud  shout  of  discord- 
ant and  unnatural  laughter,  which  to  his  stunned  ears 
seemed  more  alarming  than  a  combination  of  the  most 
dismal  and  melancholy  sounds  that  could  be  imagined. 
'Who  art  thou?'  said  the  giant,  compressing  his  savage 
and  exaggerated  features  into  a  sort  of  forced  gravity, 
while  they  were  occasionally  agitated  by  the  convulsion 
of  the  laughter  which  he  seemed  to  suppress. 

'Martin  Waldeck,  the  forester,'  answered  the  hardy 
youth;  'and  who  are  you?' 

'The  King  of  the  Waste  and  of  the  Mine,'  answered 
the  spectre;  'and  why  hast  thou  dared  to  encroach  on 
my  mysteries? ' 

'I  came  in  search  of  light  to  rekindle  my  fire,'  an- 
swered Martin  hardily,  and  then  resolutely  asked  in  his 
turn,  'What  mysteries  are  those  that  you  celebrate 
here?' 

'We  celebrate,'  answered  the  complaisant  demon, 
'the  wedding  of  Hermes  with  the  Black  Dragon.  But 
take  thy  fire  that  thou  camest  to  seek,  and  begone;  no 
mortal  may  look  upon  us  and  live.' 

The  peasant  struck  his  spear  point  into  a  large  piece 
of  blazing  wood,  which  he  heaved  up  with  some  diffi- 
culty, and  then  turned  round  to  regain  his  hut,  the 
shouts  of  laughter  being  renewed  behind  him  with  treble 
violence,  and  ringing  far  down  the  narrow  valley.  When 
Martin  returned  to  the  hut,  his  first  care,  however 
much  astonished  with  what  he  had  seen,  was  to  dis- 
pose the  kindled  coal  among  the  fuel  so  as  might  best 
light  the  fire  of  his  furnace;  but  after  many  efforts,  and 
all  exertions  of  bellows  and  fire-prong,  the  coal  he  had 

231 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


brought  from  the  demon's  fire  became  totally  extinct, 
without  kindhng  any  of  the  others.  He  turned  about 
and  observed  the  fire  still  blazing  on  the  hill,  although 
those  who  had  been  busied  around  it  had  disappeared. 
As  he  conceived  the  spectre  had  been  jesting  with  him, 
he  gave  way  to  the  natural  hardihood  of  his  temper,  and, 
determining  to  see  the  adventure  to  an  end,  resumed  the 
road  to  the  fire,  from  which,  unopposed  by  the  demon, 
he  brought  off  in  the  same  manner  a  blazing  piece  of 
charcoal,  but  still  without  being  able  to  succeed  in 
lighting  his  fire.  Impunity  having  increased  his  rash- 
ness he  resolved  upon  a  third  experiment,  and  was  as 
successful  as  before  in  reaching  the  fire;  but,  when  he  had 
again  appropriated  a  piece  of  burning  coal  and  had 
turned  to  depart,  he  heard  the  harsh  and  supernatural 
voice  which  had  before  accosted  him  pronounce  these 
words,  'Dare  not  return  hither  a  fourth  time!' 

The  attempt  to  kindle*  the  fire  with  this  last  coal 
having  proved  as  ineffectual  as  on  the  former  occasions, 
Martin  relinquished  the  hopeless  attempt  and  flung 
himself  on  his  bed  of  leaves,  resolving  to  delay  till  the 
next  morning  the  communication  of  his  supernatural 
adventure  to  his  brothers.  He  was  awakened  from  a 
heavy  sleep  into  which  he  had  sunk,  from  fatigue  of 
body  and  agitation  of  mind,  by  loud  exclamations  of  sur- 
prise and  joy.  His  brothers,  astonished  at  finding  the 
fire  extinguished  when  they  awoke,  had  proceeded  to 
arrange  the  fuel  in  order  to  renew  it,  when  they  found 
in  the  ashes  three  huge  metallic  masses,  which  their 
skill  (for  most  of  the  peasants  in  the  Harz  are  practical 
mineralogists)  immediately  ascertained  to  be  pure  gold. 

It  was  some  damp  upon  their  joyful  congratulations 
232 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

when  they  learned  from  Martin  the  mode  in  which  he 
had  obtained  this  treasure,  to  which  their  own  expe- 
rience of  the  nocturnal  vision  induced  them  to  give  full 
credit.  But  they  were  unable  to  resist  the  temptation 
of  sharing  in  their  brother's  wealth.  Taking  now  upon 
him  as  head  of  the  house,  Martin  Waldeck  bought  lands 
and  forests,  built  a  castle,  obtained  a  patent  of  nobility, 
and,  greatly  to  the  indignation  of  the  ancient  aristo- 
cracy of  the  neighbourhood,  was  invested  with  all  the 
privileges  of  a  man  of  family.  His  courage  in  public  war 
as  well  as  in  private  feuds,  together  with  the  number  of 
retainers  whom  he  kept  in  pay,  sustained  him  for  some 
time  against  the  odium  which  was  excited  by  his  sudden 
elevation  and  the  arrogance  of  his  pretensions. 

And  now  it  was  seen  in  the  instance  of  Martin  Wal- 
deck, as  it  has  been  in  that  of  many  others,  how  little 
mortals  can  foresee  the  effect  of  sudden  prosperity  on 
their  own  disposition.  The  evil  propensities  in  his  na- 
ture, which  poverty  had  checked  and  repressed,  ripened 
and  bore  their  unhallowed  fruit  under  the  influence  of 
temptation  and  the  means  of  indulgence.  As  deep  calls 
unto  deep,  one  bad  passion  awakened  another:  the 
fiend  of  avarice  invoked  that  of  pride,  and  pride  was  to 
be  supported  by  cruelty  and  oppression.  Waldeck^s  char- 
acter, always  bold  and  daring,  but  rendered  harsh  and 
assuming  by  prosperity,  soon  made  him  odious,  not  to 
the  nobles  only,  but  Ukewise  to  the  lower  ranks,  who 
saw  with  double  dislike  the  oppressive  rights  of  the 
feudal  nobility  of  the  empire  so  remorselessly  exer- 
cised by  one  who  had  risen  from  the  very  dregs  of  the 
people.  His  adventure,  although  carefully  concealed, 
began  likewise  to  be  whispered  abroad,  and  the  clergy 

233 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


already  stigmatised  as  a  wizard  and  accomplice  of  fiends 
the  wretch  who,  having  acquired  so  huge  a  treasure  in 
so  strange  a  manner,  had  not  sought  to  sanctify  it 
by  dedicating  a  considerable  portion  to  the  use  of  the 
church.  Surrounded  by  enemies,  public  and  private, 
tormented  by  a  thousand  feuds,  and  threatened  by  the 
church  with  excommunication,  Martin  Waldeck,  or,  as 
we  must  now  call  him,  the  Baron  von  Waldeck,  often 
regretted  bitterly  the  labours  and  sports  of  his  unen- 
vied  poverty.  But  his  courage  failed  him  not  under  all 
these  difl&culties,  and  seemed  rather  to  augment  in 
proportion  to  the  danger  which  darkened  around  him, 
until  an  accident  precipitated  his  fall. 

A  proclamation  by  the  reigning  Duke  of  Brunswick 
had  invited  to  a  solemn  tournament  all  German  nobles 
of  free  and  honourable  descent,  and  Martin  Waldeck, 
splendidly  armed,  accompanied  by  his  two  brothers 
and  a  gallantly  equipped  retinue,  had  the  arrogance 
to  appear  among  the  chivalry  of  the  province  and 
demand  permission  to  enter  the  lists.  This  was  consid- 
ered as  filling  up  the  measure  of  his  presumption. 
A  thousand  voices  exclaimed,  'We  will  have  no  cin- 
der-sifter mingle  in  our  games  of  chivalry.'  Irritated 
to  frenzy,  Martin  drew  his  sword  and  hewed  down 
the  herald,  who,  in  compliance  with  the  general  out- 
cry, opposed  his  entry  into  the  lists.  An  hundred 
swords  were  unsheathed  to  avenge  what  was  in  those 
days  regarded  as  a  crime  only  inferior  to  sacrilege  or 
regicide.  Waldeck,  after  defending  himself  like  a  lion, 
was  seized,  tried  on  the  spot  by  the  judges  of  the  lists, 
and  condemned,  as  the  appropriate  punishment  for 
breaking  the  peace  of  his  sovereign  and  violating  the 


234 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

sacred  person  of  a  herald-at-arms,  to  have  his  right  hand 
struck  from  his  body,  to  be  ignominiously  deprived  of 
the  honour  of  nobility,  of  which  he  was  unworthy,  and 
to  be  expelled  from  the  city.  When  he  had  been  stripped 
of  his  arms,  and  sustained  the  mutilation  imposed  by 
this  severe  sentence,  the  unhappy  victim  of  ambition 
was  abandoned  to  the  rabble,  who  followed  him  with 
threats  and  outcries  levelled  alternately  against  the 
necromancer  and  oppressor,  which  at  length  ended  in 
violence.  His  brothers  (for  his  retinue  were  fled  and 
dispersed)  at  length  succeeded  in  rescuing  him  from 
the  hands  of  the  populace,  when,  satiated  with  cruelty, 
they  had  left  him  half  dead  through  loss  of  blood  and 
through  the  outrages  he  had  sustained.  They  were  not 
permitted,  such  was  the  ingenious  cruelty  of  their  ene- 
mies, to  make  use  of  any  other  means  of  removing  him, 
excepting  such  a  collier's  cart  as  they  had  themselves 
formerly  used,  in  which  they  deposited  their  brother  on 
a  truss  of  straw,  scarcely  expecting  to  reach  any  place 
of  shelter  ere  death  should  release  him  from  his  misery. 

When  the  Waldecks,  journeying  in  this  miserable 
manner,  had  approached  the  verge  of  their  native  coun- 
try, in  a  hollow  way  between  two  mountains  they  per- 
ceived a  figure  advancing  towards  them,  which  at  first 
sight  seemed  to  be  an  aged  man.  But  as  he  approached, 
his  limbs  and  stature  increased,  the  cloak  fell  from  his 
shoulders,  his  pilgrim's  staff  was  changed  into  an  up- 
rooted pine-tree,  and  the  gigantic  figure  of  the  Harz 
demon  passed  before  them  in  his  terrors.  When  he 
came  opposite  to  the  cart  which  contained  the  miser- 
able Waldeck,  his  huge  features  dilated  into  a  grin  of 
unutterable  contempt  and  malignity,  as  he  asked  the 

235 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


sufferer,  ^How  like  you  the  fire  my  coals  have  kindled?* 
The  power  of  motion,  which  terror  suspended  in  his 
two  brothers,  seemed  to  be  restored  to  Martin  by  the 
energy  of  his  courage.  He  raised  himself  on  the  cart, 
bent  his  brows,  and,  clenching  his  fist,  shook  it  at  the 
spectre  with  a  ghastly  look  of  hate  and  defiance.  The 
goblin  vanished  with  his  usual  tremendous  and  explosive 
laugh,  and  left  Waldeck  exhausted  with  this  effort  of 
expiring  nature. 

The  terrified  brethren  turned  their  vehicle  toward 
the  towers  of  a  convent  which  arose  in  a  wood  of  pine- 
trees  beside  the  road.  They  were  charitably  received 
by  a  bare-footed  and  long-bearded  capuchin,  and  Martin 
survived  only  to  complete  the  first  confession  he  had 
made  since  the  day  of  his  sudden  prosperity,  and  to 
receive  absolution  from  the  very  priest  whom,  precisely 
on  that  day  three  years,  he  had  assisted  to  pelt  out  of 
the  hamlet  of  Morgenbrodt.  The  three  years  of  pre- 
carious prosperity  were  supposed  to  have  a  mysterious 
correspondence  with  the  number  of  his  visits  to  the 
spectral  fire  upon  the  hill. 

The  body  of  Martin  Waldeck  was  interred  in  the 
convent  where  he  expired,  in  which  his  brothers,  having 
assumed  the  habit  of  the  order,  lived  and  died  in  the 
performance  of  acts  of  charity  and  devotion.  His  lands, 
to  which  no  one  asserted  any  claim,  lay  waste  until  they 
were  reassumed  by  the  emperor  as  a  lapsed  fief,  and  the 
ruins  of  the  castle,  which  Waldeck  had  called  by  his 
own  name,  are  still  shunned  by  the  miner  and  forester 
as  haunted  by  evil  spirits.  Thus  were  the  miseries  at- 
tendant upon  wealth  hastily  attained  and  ill-employed 
exemplified  in  the  fortunes  of  Martin  Waldeck. 


CHAPTER  XIX 


Here  has  been  such  a  stormy  encounter 
Betwixt  my  cousin  captain  and  this  soldier, 
About  I  know  not  what!  Nothing,  indeed  — 
Competitions,  degrees,  and  comparatives 
Of  soldiership  1 

A  Fair  Quarrel, 

The  attentive  audience  gave  the  fair  transcriber  of  the 
foregoing  legend  the  thanks  which  politeness  required. 
Oldbuck  alone  curled  up  his  nose,  and  observed  that 
Miss  Wardour's  skill  was  something  Uke  that  of  the  al- 
chemists, for  she  had  contrived  to  extract  a  sound  and 
valuable  moral  out  of  a  very  trumpery  and  ridiculous 
legend.  *  It  is  the  fashion,  as  I  am  given  to  imderstand, 
to  admire  those  extravagant  fictions;  for  me, 

I  bear  an  English  heart, 
Unused  at  ghosts  and  rattling  bones  to  start.' 

*  Under  your  favour,  my  goot  Mr.  Oldenbuck,'  said 
the  German,  ^Miss  Wardour  has  turned  de  story,  as  she 
does  everything  as  she  touches,  very  pretty  indeed;  but 
all  the  history  of  de  Harz  gobUn,  and  how  he  walks 
among  de  desolate  mountains  wid  a  great  fir-tree  for  his 
walking-cane,  and  wid  de  great  green  bush  around  his 
head  and  his  waist  —  that  is  as  true  as  I  am  an  honest 
man.' 

'There  is  no  disputing  any  proposition  so  well  guar- 
anteed,' answered  the  Antiquary,  drily.  But  at  this 
moment  the  approach  of  a  stranger  cut  short  the  con- 
versation. 


237 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


The  newcomer  was  a  handsome  young  man,  about 
five-and-twenty,  in  a  miHtary  undress,  and  bearing 
in  his  look  and  manner  a  good  deal  of  the  martial  pro- 
fession —  nay,  perhaps  a  little  more  than  is  quite  con- 
sistent with  the  ease  of  a  man  of  perfect  good-breeding, 
in  whom  no  professional  habit  ought  to  predominate. 
He  was  at  once  greeted  by  the  greater  part  of  the  com- 
pany. 'My  dear  Hector!'  said  Miss  M'Intyre,  as  she 
rose  to  take  his  hand  — 

'Hector,  son  of  Priam,  whence  comest  thou?'  said 
the  Antiquary. 

'From  Fife,  my  liege,'  answered  the  young  soldier, 
and  continued,  when  he  had  pohtely  saluted  the  rest 
of  the  company,  and  particularly  Sir  Arthur  and  his 
daughter  — '  I  learned  from  one  of  the  servants,  as  I 
rode  towards  Monkbarns  to  pay  my  respects  to  you, 
that  I  should  find  the  present  company  in  this  place, 
and  I  willingly  embraced  the  opportunity  to  pay  my 
respects  to  so  many  of  my  friends  at  once.' 

'And  to  a  new  one  also,  my  trusty  Trojan,'  said  Old- 
buck.  '  Mr.  Lovel,  this  is  my  nephew.  Captain  M'Intyre; 
Hector,  I  recommend  Mr.  Lovel  to  your  acquaintance.' 

The  young  soldier  fixed  his  keen  eye  upon  Lovel,  and 
paid  his  compliment  with  more  reserve  than  cordial- 
ity; and,  as  our  acquaintance  thought  his  coldness 
almost  supercilious,  he  was  equally  frigid  and  haughty 
in  making  the  necessary  return  to  it;  and  thus  a  pre- 
judice seemed  to  arise  between  them  at  the  very  com- 
mencement of  their  acquaintance. 

The  observations  which  Lovel  made  during  the  re- 
mainder of  this  pleasure  party  did  not  tend  to  reconcile 
him  with  this  addition  to  their  society.  Captain  M'ln- 

238 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


tyre,  with  the  gallantry  to  be  expected  from  his  age 
and  profession,  attached  himself  to  the  service  of  Miss 
Wardour,  and  offered  her  on  every  possible  opportunity 
those  marks  of  attention  which  Lovel  would  have  given 
the  world  to  have  rendered,  and  was  only  deterred  from 
offering  by  the  fear  of  her  displeasure.  With  forlorn  de- 
jection at  one  moment  and  with  irritated  susceptibility 
at  another,  he  saw  this  handsome  young  soldier  assume 
and  exercise  all  the  privileges  of  a  cavaliere  servente.  He 
handed  Miss  Wardour's  gloves,  he  assisted  her  in  putting 
on  her  shawl,  he  attached  himself  to  her  in  the  walks, 
had  a  hand  ready  to  remove  every  impediment  in  her 
path,  and  an  arm  to  support  her  where  it  was  rugged 
ordifl&cult;  his  conversation  was  addressed  chiefly  to  her, 
and,  where  circumstances  permitted,  it  was  exclusively 
so.  All  this  Lovel  well  knew  might  be  only  that  sort  of 
egotistical  gallantry  which  induces  some  young  men  of 
the  present  day  to  give  themselves  the  air  of  engrossing 
the  attention  of  the  prettiest  woman  in  company,  as  if 
the  others  were  unworthy  of  their  notice.  But  he  thought 
he  observed  in  the  conduct  of  Captain  M'Intyre  some- 
thing of  marked  and  peculiar  tenderness,  which  was 
calculated  to  alarm  the  jealousy  of  a  lover.  Miss  War- 
dour  also  received  his  attentions;  and,  although  his 
candour  allowed  they  were  of  a  kind  which  could  not  be 
repelled  without  some  strain  of  affectation,  yet  it  galled 
him  to  the  heart  to  witness  that  she  did  so. 

The  heart-burning  which  these  reflections  occasioned 
proved  very  indifferent  seasoning  to  the  dry  antiquarian 
discussions  with  which  Oldbuck,  who  continued  to  de- 
mand his  particular  attention,  was  unremittingly  per- 
secuting him;  and  he  underwent,  with  fits  of  impatience 


239 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


that  amounted  almost  to  loathing,  a  course  of  lectures 
upon  monastic  architecture  in  all  its  styles,  from  the 
massive  Saxon  to  the  florid  Gothic,  and  from  that  to  the 
mixed  and  composite  architecture  of  James  the  First's 
time,  when,  according  to  Oldbuck,  all  orders  were  con- 
founded, and  columns  of  various  descriptions  arose  side 
by  side,  or  were  piled  above  each  other,  as  if  symmetry 
had  been  forgotten,  and  the  elemental  principles  of  art 
resolved  into  their  primitive  confusion.  ^What  can  be 
more  cutting  to  the  heart  than  the  sight  of  evils,'  said 
Oldbuck,  in  rapturous  enthusiasm,  'which  we  are  com- 
pelled to  behold,  while  we  do  not  possess  the  power  of 
remedying  them?'  Lovel  answered  by  an  involuntary 
groan.  'I  see,  my  dear  young  friend  and  most  congenial 
spirit,  that  you  feel  these  enormities  almost  as  much  as 
I  do.  Have  you  ever  approached  them  or  met  them  with- 
out longing  to  tear,  to  deface,  what  is  so  dishonourable?' 

'Dishonourable!'  echoed  Lovel,  'in  what  respect  dis- 
honourable?' 

'I  mean  disgraceful  to  the  arts.' 

'Where?  how?' 

'Upon  the  portico,  for  example,  of  the  schools  of  Ox- 
ford, where,  at  immense  expense,  the  barbarous,  fan- 
tastic, and  ignorant  architect  has  chosen  to  represent 
the  whole  five  orders  of  architecture  on  the  front  of  one 
building.' 

By  such  attacks  as  these  Oldbuck,  unconscious  of 
the  torture  he  was  giving,  compelled  Lovell  to  give  him 
a  share  of  his  attention,  as  a  skilful  angler  by  means  of 
his  line  maintains  an  influence  over  the  most  frantic 
movements  of  his  agonised  prey. 

They  were  now  on  their  return  to  the  spot  where  they 

340 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

had  left  the  carriages;  and  it  is  inconceivable  how  often 
in  the  course  of  that  short  walk  Lovel,  exhausted  by  the 
unceasing  prosing  of  his  worthy  companion,  mentally 
bestowed  on  the  devil,  or  any  one  else  that  would  have 
rid  him  of  hearing  more  of  them,  all  the  orders  and 
disorders  of  architecture  which  had  been  invented  or 
combined  from  the  building  of  Solomon's  temple  down- 
wards. A  slight  incident  occurred,  however,  which 
sprinkled  a  little  patience  on  the  heat  of  his  distemper- 
ature. 

Miss  Wardour  and  her  self-elected  knight-companion 
rather  preceded  the  others  in  the  narrow  path,  when  the 
young  lady  apparently  became  desirous  to  unite  herself 
with  the  rest  of  the  party,  and,  to  break  off  her  tete-a-tete 
with  the  young  olG&cer,  fairly  made  a  pause  until  Mr. 
Oldbuck  came  up.  *  I  wished  to  ask  you  a  question,  Mr. 
Oldbuck,  concerning  the  date  of  these  interesting  ruins.* 

It  would  be  doing  injustice  to  Miss  Wardour's 
savoir  faire  to  suppose  she  was  not  aware  that  such  a 
question  would  lead  to  an  answer  of  no  limited  length. 
The  Antiquary,  starting  like  a  war-horse  at  the  trum- 
pet sound,  plunged  at  once  into  the  various  arguments 
for  and  against  the  date  of  1 2  73 ,  which  had  been  assigned 
to  the  priory  of  St.  Ruth  by  a  late  publication  on  Scot- 
tish architectural  antiquities.  He  raked  up  the  names 
of  all  the  priors  who  had  ruled  the  institution,  of  the 
nobles  who  had  bestowed  lands  upon  it,  and  of  the  mon- 
archs  who  had  slept  their  last  sleep  among  its  roofless 
courts.  As  a  train  which  takes  fire  is  sure  to  light 
another,  if  there  be  such  in  the  vicinity,  the  Baronet, 
catching  at  the  name  of  one  of  his  ancestors  which 
occurred  in  Oldbuck's  disquisition,  entered  upon  an  ac- 
5  241 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


count  of  his  wars,  his  conquests,  and  his  trophies;  and 
worthy  Dr.  Blattergowl  was  induced,  from  the  mention 
of  a  grant  of  lands,  cum  decimis  inclusis  tam  vicariis 
quam  garbaUbus,  et  nunquam  antea  separatis,  to  enter 
into  a  long  explanation  concerning  the  interpretation 
given  by  the  Teind  Court  in  the  consideration  of  such 
a  clause,  which  had  occurred  in  a  process  for  localling 
his  last  augmentation  of  stipend.  The  orators,  like 
three  racers,  each  pressed  forward  to  the  goal,  without 
much  regarding  how  each  crossed  and  jostled  his  com- 
petitors. Mr.  Oldbuck  harangued,  the  Baronet  de- 
claimed, Mr.  Blattergowl  prosed  and  laid  down  the 
law,  while  the  Latin  forms  of  feudal  grants  were  mingled 
with  the  jargon  of  blazonry  and  the  yet  more  barbarous 
phraseology  of  the  Teind  Court  of  Scotland.  'He  was,^ 
exclaimed  Oldbuck,  speaking  of  the  Prior  Adhemar,  'in- 
deed an  exemplary  prelate;  and,  from  his  strictness  of 
morals,  rigid  execution  of  penance,  joined  to  the  charit- 
able disposition  of  his  mind  and  the  infirmities  endured 
by  his  great  age  and  ascetic  habits  — ' 

Here  he  chanced  to  cough,  and  Sir  Arthur  burst  in, 
or  rather  continued  —  'was  called  popularly  Hell-in- 
Harness;  he  carried  a  shield,  gules  with  a  sable  fess, 
which  we  have  since  disused,  and  was  slain  at  the  battle 
of  Vernoil,  in  France,  after  killing  six  of  the  English 
with  his  own  — ' 

'Decreet  of  certification,'  proceeded  the  clergyman, 
in  that  prolonged,  steady,  prosing  tone  which,  however 
overpowered  at  first  by  the  vehemence  of  competition, 
promised  in  the  long  run  to  obtain  the  ascendency  in 
this  strife  of  narrators  —  '  decreet  of  certification  having 
gone  out,  and  parties  being  held  as  confessed,  the  proof 

242 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


seemed  to  be  held  as  concluded,  when  their  lawyer 
moved  to  have  it  opened  up,  on  the  allegation  that  they 
had  witnesses  to  bring  forward,  that  they  had  been  in 
the  habit  of  carrying  the  ewes  to  lamb  on  the  teind-free 
land,  which  was  a  mere  evasion,  for  — ' 

But  here  the  Baronet  and  Mr.  Oldbuck  having  re- 
covered their  wind  and  continued  their  respective 
harangues,  the  three  strands  of  the  conversation,  to 
speak  the  language  of  a  rope-work,  were  again  twined 
together  into  one  undistinguishable  string  of  confusion. 

Yet,  howsoever  uninteresting  this  piebald  jargon 
might  seem,  it  was  obviously  Miss  Wardour's  purpose 
to  give  it  her  attention,  in  preference  to  yielding  Cap- 
tain MTntyre  an  opportunity  of  renewing  their  private 
conversation.  So  that,  after  waiting  for  a  Httle  time  with 
displeasure  ill  concealed  by  his  haughty  features,  he  left 
her  to  enjoy  her  bad  taste,  and,  taking  his  sister  by  the 
arm,  detained  her  a  little  behind  the  rest  of  the  party. 

*  So  I  find,  Mary,  that  your  neighbourhood  has  neither 
become  more  lively  nor  less  learned  during  my  absence.' 

^  We  lacked  your  patience  and  wisdom  to  instruct  us, 
Hector.' 

'Thank  you, my  dear  sister.  But  you  have  got  a  wiser, 
if  not  so  lively  an  addition  to  your  society  than  your 
unworthy  brother;  pray,  who  is  this  Mr.  Lovel,  whom 
our  old  uncle  has  at  once  placed  so  high  in  his  good 
graces?  He  does  not  use  to  be  so  accessible  to  strangers.' 

'Mr.  Lovel,  Hector,  is  a  very  gentleman-like  young 
man.' 

'Ay,  that  is  to  say,  he  bows  when  he  comes  into  a 
room,  and  wears  a  coat  that  is  whole  at  the  elbows.' 
'No,  brother;  it  says  a  great  deal  more.  It  says  that 
243 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


his  manners  and  discourse  express  the  feelings  and 
education  of  the  higher  class.' 

^Butl  desire  to  know  what  is  his  birth  and  his  rank 
in  society,  and  what  is  his  title  to  be  in  the  circle  in 
which  I  find  him  domesticated?' 

'If  you  mean  how  he  comes  to  visit  at  Monkbarns, 
you  must  ask  my  uncle,  who  will  probably  reply,  that 
he  invites  to  his  own  house  such  company  as  he  pleases; 
and  if  you  mean  to  ask  Sir  Arthur,  you  must  know  that 
Mr.  Lovel  rendered  Miss  Wardour  and  him  a  service 
of  the  most  important  kind.' 

'What!  that  romantic  story  is  true  then?  And  pray, 
does  the  valorous  knight  aspire,  as  is  befitting  on  such 
occasions,  to  the  hand  of  the  young  lady  whom  he  re- 
deemed from  peril?  It  is  quite  in  the  rule  of  romance, 
I  am  aware;  and  I  did  think  that  she  was  uncommonly 
dry  to  me  as  we  walked  together,  and  seemed  from  time 
to  time  as  if  she  watched  whether  she  was  not  giving 
offence  to  her  gallant  cavalier.' 

'Dear  Hector,'  said  his  sister,  'if  you  really  continue 
to  nourish  any  affection  for  Miss  Wardour  — ' 

'If,  Mary?  What  an  "if "  was  there!' 

^ —  I  own  I  consider  your  perseverance  as  hopeless.' 

'And  why  hopeless,  my  sage  sister?'  asked  Captain 
M'Intyre.  '  Miss  Wardour,  in  the  state  of  her  father's 
affairs,  cannot  pretend  to  much  fortune;  and  as  to 
family,  I  trust  that  of  M'Intyre  is  not  inferior.' 

'But,  Hector,'  continued  his  sister,  'Sir  Arthur  al- 
ways considers  us  as  members  of  the  Monkbarns 
family.' 

'Sir  Arthur  may  consider  what  he  pleases,'  answered 
the  Highlander,  scornfully;  'but  any  one  with  common 

244 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

sense  will  consider  that  the  wife  takes  rank  from  the 
husband,  and  that  my  father's  pedigree  of  fifteen  un- 
blemished descents  must  have  ennobled  my  mother,  if 
her  veins  had  been  filled  with  printer's  ink.' 

^For  God's  sake.  Hector,'  rephed  his  anxious  sister, 
^  take  care  of  yourself.  A  single  expression  of  that  kind, 
repeated  to  my  uncle  by  an  indiscreet  or  interested 
eavesdropper,  would  lose  you  his  favour  for  ever,  and 
destroy  all  chance  of  your  succeeding  to  his  estate.' 

'Be  it  so,'  answered  the  heedless  young  man.  'I  am 
one  of  a  profession  which  the  world  has  never  been  able 
to  do  without,  and  will  far  less  endure  to  want  for  half 
a  century  to  come;  and  my  good  old  uncle  may  tack  his 
good  estate  and  his  plebeian  name  to  your  apron-string 
if  he  pleases,  Mary,  and  you  may  wed  this  new  favourite 
of  his  if  you  please,  and  you  may  both  of  you  live  quiet, 
peaceable,  well-regulated  lives  if  it  pleases  Heaven.  My 
part  is  taken:  I'll  fawn  on  no  man  for  an  inheritance 
which  should  be  mine  by  birth.' 

Miss  M'Intyre  laid  her  hand  on  her  brother's  arm  and 
entreated  him  to  suppress  his  vehemence.  'Who,'  she 
said,  'injures,  or  seeks  to  injure,  you  but  your  own 
hasty  temper?  what  dangers  are  you  defying  but  those 
you  have  yourself  conjured  up?  Our  uncle  has  hither- 
to been  all  that  is  kind  and  paternal  in  his  conduct  to 
us,  and  why  should  you  suppose  he  will  in  future  be 
otherwise  than  what  he  has  ever  been  since  we  were  left 
as  orphans  to  his  care? ' 

'He  is  an  excellent  old  gentleman,  I  must  own,'  re- 
plied M'Intyre,  'and  I  am  enraged  at  myself  when  I 
chance  to  offend  him;  but  then  his  eternal  harangues 
upon  topics  not  worth  the  spark  of  a  flint,  his  investi- 

245 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


gations  about  invalided  pots  and  pans  and  tobacco- 
stoppers  past  service  —  all  these  things  put  me  out  of 
patience.  I  have  something  of  Hotspur  in  me,  sister, 
I  must  confess.' 

*Too  much,  too  much,  my  dear  brother.  Into  how 
many  risks,  and,  forgive  me  for  saying,  some  of  them 
little  creditable,  has  this  absolute  and  violent  temper 
led  you!  Do  not  let  such  clouds  darken  the  time  you 
are  now  to  pass  in  our  neighbourhood,  but  let  our  old 
benefactor  see  his  kinsman  as  he  is — generous,  kind,  and 
lively,  without  being  rude,  headstrong,  and  impetuous.' 

Well,'  answered  Captain  M'Intyre,  am  schooled, 
good  manners  be  my  speed!  I'll  do  the  civil  thing  by 
your  new  friend:  I'll  have  some  talk  with  this  Mr. 
Lovel.' 

With  this  determination,  in  which  he  was  for  the  time 
perfectly  sincere,  he  joined  the  party  who  were  walking 
before  them.  The  treble  disquisition  was  by  this  time 
ended,  and  Sir  Arthur  was  speaking  on  the  subject  of 
foreign  news  and  the  political  and  military  situation  of 
the  country,  themes  upon  which  every  man  thinks 
himself  qualified  to  give  an  opinion.  An  action  of  the 
preceding  year  having  come  upon  the  tapis,  Lovel, 
accidentally  mingling  in  the  conversation,  made  some 
assertion  concerning  it,  of  the  accuracy  of  which 
Captain  M'Intyre  seemed  not  to  be  convinced,  although 
his  doubts  were  politely  expressed. 

^You  must  confess  yourself  in  the  wrong  here.  Hec- 
tor,' said  his  uncle,  'although  I  know  no  man  less  will- 
ing to  give  up  an  argument;  but  you  were  in  England 
at  the  time,  and  Mr.  Lovel  was  probably  concerned  in 
the  affair/ 

246 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


*I  am  speaking  to  a  military  man,  then/  said  MTn- 
tyre;  'may  I  inquire  to  what  regiment  Mr.  Lovel 
belongs?'  Mr.  Lovel  gave  him  the  number  of  the 
regiment.  'It  happens  strangely  that  we  should  never 
have  met  before,  Mr.  Lovel.  I  know  your  regiment 
very  well,  and  have  served  along  with  them  at  different 
times.' 

A  blush  crossed  Lovel's  countenance.  'I  have  not 
lately  been  with  my  regiment,'  he  replied;  'I  served  the 
last  campaign  upon  the  staff  of  General  Sir  

'Indeed!  that  is  more  wonderful  than  the  other  cir- 
cumstance; for,  although  I  did  not  serve  with  General 

Sir  ,  yet  I  had  an  opportunity  of  knowing  the 

names  of  the  officers  who  held  situations  in  his  family, 
und  I  cannot  recollect  that  of  Lovel.' 

At  this  observation  Lovel  again  blushed  so  deeply  as 
to  attract  the  attention  of  the  whole  company,  while 
a  scornful  laugh  seemed  to  indicate  Captain  MTntyre's 
triumph.  'There  is  something  strange  in  this,'  said 
Oldbuck  to  himself,  'but  I  will  not  readily  give  up  my 
phoenix  of  post-chaise  companions;  all  his  actions,  lan- 
guage, and  bearing  are  those  of  a  gentleman.' 

Lovel  in  the  meanwhile  had  taken  out  his  pocket- 
book,  and  selecting  a  letter,  from  which  he  took  off  the 
envelope,  he  handed  it  to  MTntyre.  'You  know  the 
general's  hand  in  all  probability;  I  own  I  ought  not  to 
show  these  exaggerated  expressions  of  his  regard  and 
esteem  for  me.'  The  letter  contained  a  very  handsome 
compliment  from  the  officer  in  question  for  some  mil- 
itary service  lately  performed.  Captain  M'Intyre,  as 
he  glanced  his  eye  over  it,  could  not  deny  that  it  was 
written  in  the  general's  hand,  but  drily  observed,  as 

247 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


he  returned  it,  that  the  address  was  wanting.  'The 
address,  Captain  M'Intyre/  answered  Lovel  in  the  same 
tone,  ^  shall  be  at  your  service  whenever  you  choose  to 
inquire  after  it.' 

^  I  certainly  shall  not  fail  to  do  so/  rejoined  the  soldier. 

^  Come,  come,'  exclaimed  Oldbuck,  *  what  is  the  mean- 
ing of  all  this?  Have  we  got  Hiren  here?  We '11  have  no 
swaggering,  youngsters.  Are  you  come  from  the  wars 
abroad  to  stir  up  domestic  strife  in  our  peaceful  land? 
Are  you  like  bull-dog  puppies,  forsooth,  that,  when 
the  bull,  poor  fellow,  is  removed  from  the  ring,  fall  to 
brawl  among  themselves,  worry  each  other,  and  bite 
honest  folk's  shins  that  are  standing  by? ' 

Sir  Arthur  trusted,  he  said,  that  the  young  gentle- 
men would  not  so  far  forget  themselves  as  to  grow  warm 
upon  such  a  trifling  subject  as  the  back  of  a  letter. 

Both  the  disputants  disclaimed  any  such  intention, 
and,  with  high  colour  and  flashing  eyes,  protested  they 
were  never  so  cool  in  their  lives.  But  an  obvious  damp 
was  cast  over  the  party;  they  talked  in  future  too  much 
by  the  rule  to  be  sociable,  and  Lovel,  conceiving  him- 
self the  object  of  cold  and  suspicious  looks  from  the 
rest  of  the  company,  and  sensible  that  his  indirect  re- 
plies had  given  them  permission  to  entertain  strange 
opinions  respecting  him,  made  a  gallant  determination 
to  sacrifice  the  pleasure  he  had  proposed  in  spending 
the  day  at  Knockwinnock. 

He  affected,  therefore,  to  complain  of  a  violent  head- 
ache, occasioned  by  the  heat  of  the  day,  to  which  he  had 
not  been  exposed  since  his  illness,  and  made  a  formal 
apology  to  Sir  Arthur,  who,  listening  more  to  recent 
suspicion  than  to  the  gratitude  due  for  former  services, 

248 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


did  not  press  him  to  keep  his  engagement  more  than 
good-breeding  exactly  demanded. 

When  Lovel  took  leave  of  the  ladies,  Miss  Wardour's 
manner  seemed  more  anxious  than  he  had  hitherto  re- 
marked it.  She  indicated  by  a  glance  of  her  eye  towards 
Captain  MTntyre,  perceptible  only  by  Lovel,  the  sub- 
ject of  her  alarm,  and  hoped,  in  a  voice  greatly  under 
her  usual  tone,  it  was  not  a  less  pleasant  engagement 
which  deprived  them  of  the  pleasure  of  Mr.  LoveFs 
company.  ^No  engagement  had  intervened,'  he  assured 
her;  4t  was  only  the  return  of  a  complaint  by  which  he 
had  been  for  some  time  occasionally  attacked.' 

'The  best  remedy  in  such  a  case  is  prudence,  and  I  — 
every  friend  of  Mr.  LoveFs  —  will  expect  him  to  employ 
it.' 

Lovel  bowed  low  and  coloured  deeply,  and  Miss 
Wardour,  as  if  she  felt  that  she  had  said  too  much, 
turned  and  got  into  the  carriage.  Lovel  had  next  to 
part  with  Oldbuck,  who  during  this  interval  had,  with 
Caxon's  assistance,  been  arranging  his  disordered  peri- 
wig and  brushing  his  coat,  which  exhibited  some  marks 
of  the  rude  path  they  had  traversed.  'What,  man!' 
said  Oldbuck,  'you  are  not  going  to  leave  us  on  account 
of  that  fooHsh  Hector's  indiscreet  curiosity  and  vehe- 
mence? Why,  he  is  a  thoughtless  boy,  a  spoiled  child 
from  the  time  he  was  in  the  nurse's  arms:  he  threw  his 
coral  and  bells  at  my  head  for  refusing  him  a  bit  of 
sugar;  and  you  have  too  much  sense  to  mind  such  a 
shrewish  boy;  cequam  servare  mentem  is  the  motto  of 
our  friend  Horace.  I  '11  school  Hector  by  and  by,  and 
put  it  all  to  rights.'  But  Lovel  persisted  in  his  design 
of  returning  to  Fairport. 

249 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


The  Antiquary  then  assumed  a  graver  tone.  ^Take 
heed,  young  man,  to  your  present  feelings.  Your  life 
has  been  given  you  for  useful  and  valuable  purposes, 
and  should  be  reserved  to  illustrate  the  literature  of  your 
country,  when  you  are  not  called  upon  to  expose  it  in 
her  defence,  or  in  the  rescue  of  the  innocent.  Private 
war,  a  practice  unknown  to  the  civiUsed  ancients,  is,  of  all 
the  absurdities  introduced  by  the  Gothic  tribes,  the 
most  gross,  impious,  and  cruel.  Let  me  hear  no  more  of 
these  absurd  quarrels,  and  I  will  show  you  the  treatise 
upon  the  duello  which  I  composed  when  the  town-clerk 
and  provost  Mucklewhame  chose  to  assume  the  privi- 
leges of  gentlemen  and  challenged  each  other.  I  thought 
of  printing  my  essay,  which  is  signed  Pacificator"; 
but  there  was  no  need,  as  the  matter  was  taken  up  by 
the  town-council  of  the  borough.' 

^But  I  assure  you,  my  dear  sir,  there  is  nothing  be- 
tween Captain  Mlntyre  and  me  that  can  render  such 
respectable  interference  necessary.' 

'See  it  be  so,  for  otherwise  I  will  stand  second  to 
both  parties.' 

So  saying,  the  old  gentleman  got  into  the  chaise, 
close  to  which  Miss  Mlntyre  had  detained  her  brother, 
upon  the  same  principle  that  the  owner  of  a  quarrelsome 
dog  keeps  him  by  his  side  to  prevent  his  fastening  upon 
another.  But  Hector  contrived  to  give  her  precaution  the 
slip,  for,  as  he  was  on  horseback,  he  Hngered  behind 
the  carriages  until  they  had  fairly  turned  the  corner  in 
the  road  to  Knockwinnock,  and  then,  wheehng  his  horse's 
head  round,  gave  him  the  spur  in  the  opposite  direction. 

A  very  few  minutes  brought  him  up  with  Lovel, 
who,  perhaps  anticipating  his  intention,  had  not  put 

250 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


his  horse  beyond  a  slow  walk,  when  the  clatter  of  hoofs 
behind  him  announced  Captain  MTntyre.  The  young 
soldier,  his  natural  heat  of  temper  exasperated  by  the 
rapidity  of  motion,  reined  his  horse  up  suddenly  and 
violently  by  LoveFs  side,  and,  touching  his  hat  slightly, 
inquired,  in  a  very  haughty  tone  of  voice,  ^What  am 
I  to  understand,  sir,  by  your  telling  me  that  your  ad- 
dress was  at  my  service? ' 

^Simply,  sir,'  repUed  Lovel,  'that  my  name  is  Lovel, 
and  that  my  residence  is,  for  the  present,  Fairport,  as 
you  will  see  by  this  card.' 

'And  this  is  all  the  information  you  are  disposed  to 
give  me? ' 

'I  see  no  right  you  have  to  require  more.' 

*I  find  you,  sir,  in  company  with  my  sister,'  said  the 
young  soldier,  'and  I  have  a  right  to  know  who  is  ad- 
mitted into  Miss  MTntyre 's  society.' 

'I  shall  take  the  liberty  of  disputing  that  right,'  re- 
plied Lovel,  with  a  manner  as  haughty  as  that  of  the 
young  soldier;  'you  find  me  in  society  who  are  satis- 
fied with  the  degree  of  information  on  my  affairs  which 
I  have  thought  proper  to  communicate,  and  you,  a  mere 
stranger,  have  no  right  to  inquire  further.' 

'Mr.  Lovel,  if  you  served  as  you  say  you  have  — ' 

'If!'  interrupted  Lovel  —  'i/  I  have  served  as  /  say 
I  have?' 

'Yes,  sir,  such  is  my  expression;  if  you  have  so  served, 
you  must  know  that  you  owe  me  satisfaction  either  in 
one  way  or  other.' 

'If  that  be  your  opinion,  I  shall  be  proud  to  give  it 
to  you,  Captain  MTntyre,  in  the  way  in  which  the  word 
is  generally  used  among  gentlemen.' 

251 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


'Very  well,  sir/  rejoined  Hector,  and,  turning  his 
horse  round,  galloped  off  to  overtake  his  party. 

His  absence  had  already  alarmed  them,  and  his  sister, 
having  stopped  the  carriage,  had  her  neck  stretched 
out  of  the  window  to  see  where  he  was. 

'What  is  the  matter  with  you  now?'  said  the  Anti- 
quary, *  riding  to  and  fro  as  your  neck  were  upon  the 
wager;  why  do  you  not  keep  up  with  the  carriage?' 

'I  forgot  my  glove,  sir,'  said  Hector. 

'Forgot  your  glove!  I  presume  you  meant  to  say 
you  went  to  throw  it  down;  but  I  will  take  order  with 
you,  my  young  gentleman:  you  shall  return  with  me  this 
night  to  Monkbarns.'  So  saying,  he  bid  the  postilion 
go  on. 


CHAPTER  XX 


If  you  fail  Honour  here, 
Never  presume  to  serve  her  any  more; 
Bid  farewell  to  the  integrity  of  armes, 
And  the  honourable  name  of  soldier 
Fall  from  you,  like  a  shivered  wreath  of  laurel 
By  thunder  struck  from  a  desertlesse  forehead. 

A  Faire  Quarrell. 

Early  the  next  morning  a  gentleman  came  to  wait 
upon  Mr.  Lovel,  who  was  up  and  ready  to  receive  him. 
He  was  a  military  gentleman,  a  friend  of  Captain 
M'Intyre's,  at  present  in  Fairport  on  the  recruiting 
service.  Lovel  and  he  were  slightly  known  to  each  other. 
'I  presume,  sir,'  said  Mr.  Lesley  (such  was  the  name 
of  the  visitor),  Hhat  you  guess  the  occasion  of  my 
troubHng  you  so  early? ' 

message  from  Captain  M'Intyre,  I  presume?' 

*The  same;  he  holds  himself  injured  by  the  manner 
in  which  you  declined  yesterday  to  answer  certain  in- 
quiries which  he  conceived  himself  entitled  to  make 
respecting  a  gentleman  whom  he  found  in  intimate 
society  with  his  family.' 

'May  I  ask  if  you,  Mr.  Lesley,  would  have  inclined 
to  satisfy  interrogatories  so  haughtily  and  unceremoni- 
ously put  to  you? ' 

'Perhaps  not;  and  therefore,  as  I  know  the  warmth 
of  my  friend  M^Intyre  on  such  occasions,  I  feel  very 
desirous  of  acting  as  peacemaker.  From  Mr.  Lovel's 
very  gentleman-like  manners  every  one  must  strongly 
wish  to  see  him  repel  all  that  sort  of  dubious  calumny 

253 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


which  will  attach  itself  to  one  whose  situation  is  not 
fully  explained.  If  he  will  permit  me,  in  friendly  con- 
ciliation, to  inform  Captain  M'Intyre  of  his  real  name, 
for  we  are  led  to  conclude  that  of  Lovel  is  assumed  — ' 
'I  beg  your  pardon,  sir,  but  I  cannot  admit  that  in- 
ference.' 

'Or  at  least,'  said  Lesley,  proceeding,  'that  it  is  not 
the  name  by  which  Mr.  Lovel  has  been  at  all  times  dis- 
tinguished; if  Mr.  Lovel  will  have  the  goodness  to  ex- 
plain this  circumstance,  which,  in  my  opinion,  he  should 
do  in  justice  to  his  own  character,  I  will  answer  for  the 
amicable  arrangement  of  this  unpleasant  business.' 

*  Which  is  to  say,  Mr.  Lesley,  that  if  I  condescend  to 
answer  questions  which  no  man  has  a  right  to  ask,  and 
which  are  now  put  to  me  under  penalty  of  Captain 
M'Intyre's  resentment,  Captain  M'Intyre  will  conde- 
scend to  rest  satisfied?  Mr.  Lesley,  I  have  just  one 
word  to  say  on  this  subject.  I  have  no  doubt  my  secret, 
if  I  had  one,  might  be  safely  entrusted  to  your  honour, 
but  I  do  not  feel  called  upon  to  satisfy  the  curiosity  of 
any  one.  Captain  M'Intyre  met  me  in  society  which  of 
itself  was  a  warrant  to  all  the  world,  and  particularly 
ought  to  be  such  to  him,  that  I  was  a  gentleman.  He 
has,  in  my  opinion,  no  right  to  go  any  further,  or  to  in- 
quire the  pedigree,  rank,  or  circumstances  of  a  stranger 
who,  without  seeking  any  intimate  connexion  with  him 
or  his,  chances  to  dine  with  his  uncle  or  walk  in  com- 
pany with  his  sister.' 

'In  that  case.  Captain  M'Intyre  requests  you  to  be 
informed  that  your  farther  visits  at  Monkbarns,  and 
all  connexion  with  Miss  M'Intyre,  must  be  dropt,  as 
disagreeable  to  him,' 

254 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

shall  certainly/  said  Lovel,  ^  visit  Mr.  Oldbuck 
when  it  suits  me,  without  paying  the  least  respect  to 
his  nephew's  threats  or  irritable  feelings.  I  respect  the 
young  lady's  name  too  much  —  though  nothing  can 
be  sHghter  than  our  acquaintance  —  to  introduce  it 
into  such  a  discussion.' 

^  Since  that  is  your  resolution,  sir/  answered  Lesley, 
'Captain  M'Intyre  requests  that  Mr.  Lovel,  unless  he 
wishes  to  be  announced  as  a  very  dubious  character, 
will  favour  him  with  a  meeting  this  evening  at  seven 
at  the  thorn-tree  in  the  little  valley,  close  by  the  ruins 
of  St.  Ruth.' 

^Most  unquestionably  I  will  wait  upon  him.  There 
is  only  one  difficulty:  I  must  find  a  friend  to  accom- 
pany me,  and  where  to  seek  one  on  this  short  notice, 
as  I  have  no  acquaintances  in  Fairport  —  I  will  be  on 
the  spot,  however,  Captain  M'Intyre  may  be  assured  of 
that.' 

Lesley  had  taken  his  hat  and  was  as  far  as  the  door 
of  the  apartment,  when,  as  if  moved  by  the  peculiarity 
of  Lovel's  situation,  he  returned  and  thus  addressed  him : 
'Mr.  Lovel,  there  is  something  so  singular  in  all  this 
that  I  cannot  help  again  resuming  the  argument.  You 
must  be  yourself  aware  at  this  moment  of  the  incon- 
venience of  your  preserving  an  incognito  for  which,  I 
am  convinced,  there  can  be  no  dishonourable  reason. 
Still,  this  mystery  renders  it  difficult  for  you  to  procure 
the  assistance  of  a  friend  in  a  crisis  so  delicate;  nay,  let 
me  add,  that  many  persons  will  even  consider  it  as  a 
piece  of  Quixotry  in  M'Intyre  to  give  you  a  meeting 
while  your  character  and  circumstances  are  involved  in 
such  obscurity.' 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


*I  understand  your  innuendo,  Mr.  Lesley/  rejoined 
Lovel,  'and  though  I  might  be  offended  at  its  severity, 
I  am  not  so,  because  it  is  meant  kindly.  But,  in  my  opin- 
ion, he  is  entitled  to  all  the  privileges  of  a  gentleman  to 
whose  charge,  during  the  time  he  has  been  known  in 
the  society  where  he  happens  to  move,  nothing  can  be 
laid  that  is  unhandsome  or  unbecoming.  For  a  friend, 
I  daresay  I  shall  find  some  one  or  other  who  will  do  me 
that  good  turn;  and  if  his  experience  be  less  than  I  could 
wish,  I  am  certain  not  to  suffer  through  that  circum- 
stance when  you  are  in  the  field  for  my  antagonist/ 

'I  trust  you  will  not,'  said  Lesley;  'but  as  I  must,  for 
my  own  sake,  be  anxious  to  divide  so  heavy  a  respon- 
sibiUty  with  a  capable  assistant,  allow  me  to  say,  that 
Lieutenant  Taffril's  gun-brig  is  come  into  the  roadstead, 
and  he  himself  is  now  at  old  Caxon's,  where  he  lodges. 
I  think  you  have  the  same  degree  of  acquaintance  with 
him  as  with  me,  and,  as  I  am  sure  I  should  willingly  have 
rendered  you  such  a  service  were  I  not  engaged  on  the 
other  side,  I  am  convinced  he  will  do  so  at  your  first 
request.' 

'At  the  thorn- tree,  then,  Mr.  Lesley,  at  seven  this 
evening.  The  arms,  I  presume,  are  pistols?' 

'Exactly.  M'Intyre  has  chosen  the  hour  at  which  he 
can  best  escape  from  Monkbarns;  he  was  with  me  this 
morning  by  five  in  order  to  return  and  present  him- 
self before  his  uncle  was  up.  Good-morning  to  you,  Mr. 
Lovel.'  And  Lesley  left  the  apartment. 

Lovel  was  as  brave  as  most  men;  but  none  can  inter- 
nally regard  such  a  crisis  as  now  approached  without 
deep  feelings  of  awe  and  uncertainty.  In  a  few  hours 
he  might  be  in  another  world  to  answer  for  an  action 

256 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


which  his  calmer  thought  told  him  was  unjustifiable  in 
a  religious  point  of  view,  or  he  might  be  wandering  about 
in  the  present  like  Cain,  with  the  blood  of  his  brother 
on  his  head.  And  all  this  might  be  saved  by  speaking 
a  single  word.  Yet  pride  whispered,  that  to  speak  that 
word  now  would  be  ascribed  to  a  motive  which  would 
degrade  him  more  low  than  even  the  most  injurious 
reasons  that  could  be  assigned  for  his  silence.  Every 
one.  Miss  Wardour  included,  must  then,  he  thought, 
account  him  a  mean,  dishonoured  poltroon,  who  gave  to 
the  fear  of  meeting  Captain  MTntyre  the  explanation 
he  had  refused  to  the  calm  and  handsome  expostulations 
of  Mr.  Lesley.  MTntyre's  insolent  behaviour  to  himself 
personally,  the  air  of  pretension  which  he  assumed 
towards  Miss  Wardour,  and  the  extreme  injustice,  ar- 
rogance, and  incivility  of  his  demands  upon  a  perfect 
stranger,  seemed  to  justify  him  in  repelling  his  rude  in- 
vestigation. In  short,  he  formed  the  resolution,  which 
might  have  been  expected  from  so  young  a  man,  to  shut 
the  eyes,  namely,  of  his  calmer  reason,  and  follow  the 
dictates  of  his  offended  pride.  With  this  purpose  he 
sought  Lieutenant  Taffril. 

The  Lieutenant  received  him  with  the  good-breeding 
of  a  gentleman  and  the  frankness  of  a  sailor,  and  lis- 
tened with  no  small  surprise  to  the  detail  which  pre- 
ceded his  request  that  he  might  be  favoured  with  his 
company  at  his  meeting  with  Captain  MTntyre.  When 
he  had  finished,  Taffril  rose  up  and  walked  through 
his  apartment  once  or  twice. 

'This  is  a  most  singular  circumstance,'  he  said,  *and 
really — ' 

'I  am  conscious,  Mr.  Taffril,  how  little  I  am  entitled 


«  257 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


to  make  my  present  request,  but  the  urgency  of  cir- 
cumstances hardly  leaves  me  an  alternative/ 

*  Permit  me  to  ask  you  one  question/ asked  the  sailor; 
'is  there  anything  of  which  you  are  ashamed  in  the  cir- 
cumstances which  you  have  declined  to  communicate?* 

'Upon  my  honour,  no;  there  is  nothing  but  what,  in 
a  very  short  time,  I  trust  I  may  publish  to  the  whole 
world.' 

'I  hope  the  mystery  arises  from  no  false  shame  at 
the  lowness  of  your  friends  perhaps,  or  connexions?' 

*No,  on  my  word,'  replied  Lovel. 

*I  have  little  sympathy  for  that  folly,'  said  Taffril; 
*  indeed,  I  cannot  be  supposed  to  have  any;  for,  speak- 
ing of  my  relations,  I  may  be  said  to  have  come  myself 
from  before  the  mast,  and  I  believe  I  shall  very  soon 
form  a  connexion  which  the  world  will  think  low  enough 
with  a  very  amiable  girl,  to  whom  I  have  been  attached 
since  we  were  next-door  neighbours,  at  a  time  when  I 
little  thought  of  the  good  fortune  which  has  brought  me 
forward  in  the  service.' 

'I  assure  you,  Mr.  Taiffril,'  replied  Lovel,  'whatever 
were  the  rank  of  my  parents,  I  should  never  think  of 
concealing  it  from  a  spirit  of  petty  pride.  But  I  am  so 
situated  at  present  that  I  cannot  enter  on  the  subject 
of  my  family  with  any  propriety.' 

'It  is  quite  enough,'  said  the  honest  sailor,  'give  me 
your  hand;  I'll  see  you  as  well  through  this  business  as 
I  can,  though  it  is  but  an  unpleasant  one  after  all.  But 
what  of  that  ?  our  own  honour  has  the  next  call  on  us 
after  our  country.  You  are  a  lad  of  spirit,  and  I  own 
I  think  Mr.  Hector  M'Intyre,  with  his  long  pedigree 
and  his  airs  of  family,  very  much  of  a  jackanapes.  His 

258: 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

father  was  a  soldier  of  fortune  as  I  am  a  sailor;  he  him- 
self, I  suppose,  is  little  better,  unless  just  as  his  uncle 
pleases;  and  whether  one  pursues  fortune  by  land  or 
sea  makes  no  great  difiference,  I  should  fancy.' 

*None  in  the  universe,  certainly,'  answered  Lovel. 

'Well,'  said  his  new  ally,  ^we  will  dine  together  and 
arrange  matters  for  this  rencounter.  I  hope  you  un- 
derstand the  use  of  the  weapon?' 

'Not  particularly,'  Lovel  replied. 

'I  am  sorry  for  that;  MTntyre  is  said  to  be  a  marks- 
man.' 

'I  am  sorry  for  it  also,'  said  Lovel;  ^both  for  his  sake 
and  my  own.  I  must  then,  in  self-defence,  take  my  aim 
as  well  as  I  can. ' 

'Well,'  added  Taffril,  'I  will  have  our  surgeon's  mate 
on  the  field  —  a  good  clever  young  fellow  at  caulking 
a  shot-hole.  I  will  let  Lesley,  who  is  an  honest  fellow 
for  a  landsman,  know  that  he  attends  for  the  benefit  of 
either  party.  Is  there  anything  I  can  do  for  you  in  case 
of  an  accident? ' 

'I  have  but  little  occasion  to  trouble  you,'  said 
Lovel;  'this  small  billet  contains  the  key  of  my  escri- 
toir  and  my  very  brief  secret.  There  is  one  letter  in  the 
escritoir  (digesting  a  temporary  swelling  of  the  heart 
as  he  spoke)  which  I  beg  the  favour  of  you  to  deliver 
with  your  own  hand.' 

'I  understand,'  said  the  sailor;  'nay,  my  friend,  never 
be  ashamed  for  the  matter;  an  affectionate  heart  may 
overflow  for  an  instant  at  the  eyes,  if  the  ship  were 
clearing  for  action;  and,  depend  on  it,  whatever  your 
injunctions  are,  Dan  Taffril  will  regard  them  like  the 
bequest  of  a  dying  brother.  But  this  is  all  stuff!  We 

259 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


must  get  our  things  in  fighting  order,  and  you  will  dine 
with  me  and  my  little  surgeon's  mate  at  the  Graeme's 
Arms,  over  the  way,  at  four  o'clock/ 
*  Agreed,'  said  Lovel. 

^Agreed,'  said  Taffril;  and  the  whole  affair  was  ar- 
ranged. 

It  was  a  beautiful  summer  evening,  and  the  shadow 
of  the  solitary  thorn-tree  was  lengthening  upon  the 
short  green  sward  of  the  narrow  valley,  which  was 
skirted  by  the  woods  that  closed  around  the  ruins  of 
St.  Ruth. 

Lovel  and  Lieutenant  Taffril,  with  the  surgeon,  came 
upon  the  ground  with  a  purpose  of  a  nature  very  un- 
congenial to  the  soft,  mild,  and  pacific  character  of  the 
^  hour  and  scene.  The  sheep,  which,  during  the  ardent  heat 
of  the  day,  had  sheltered  in  the  breaches  and  hollows  of 
the  gravelly  bank,  or  under  the  roots  of  the  aged  and 
stunted  trees,  had  now  spread  themselves  upon  the  face 
of  the  hill  to  enjoy  their  evening's  pasture,  and  bleated 
to  each  other  with  that  melancholy  sound  which  at 
once  gives  life  to  a  landscape  and  marks  its  solitude. 
Taffril  and  Lovel  came  on  in  deep  conference,  having, 
for  fear  of  discovery,  sent  their  horses  back  to  the  town 
by  the  Lieutenant's  servant.  The  opposite  party  had 
not  yet  appeared  on  the  field.  But,  when  they  came 
upon  the  ground,  there  sat  upon  the  roots  of  the  old 
thorn  a  figure  as  vigorous  in  his  decay  as  the  moss- 
grown  but  strong  and  contorted  boughs  which  served 
him  for  a  canopy.  It  was  old  Ochiltree.  'This  is  em- 
barrassing enough,'  said  Lovel;  'how  shall  we  get  rid  of 
this  old  fellow? ' 

260 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

'Here,  father  Adam/  cried  Taffril,  who  knew  the 
mendicant  of  yore  —  ^here half-a-crown  for  you;  you 
must  go  to  the  Four  Horseshoes  yonder  —  the  Kttle  inn, 
you  know  —  and  inquire  for  a  servant  with  blue  and 
yellow  livery.  If  he  is  not  come,  you'll  wait  for  him, 
and  tell  him  we  shall  be  with  his  master  in  about  an 
hour's  time.  At  any  rate  wait  there  till  we  come  back, 
and  —  get  oj0f  with  you  —  come,  come,  weigh  anchor.' 

^I  thank  ye  for  your  awmous,'  said  Ochiltree,  pocket- 
ing the  piece  of  money;  ^but  I  beg  your  pardon,  Mr* 
Taffril,  I  canna  gang  your  errand  e'en  now.* 

Why  not,  man?  what  can  hinder  you? ' 

*I  wad  speak  a  word  wi'  young  Mr.  Lovel.* 

With  me?'  answered  Lovel;  ^what  would  you  say 
with  me?  Come,  say  on,  and  be  brief.' 

The  mendicant  led  him  a  few  paces  aside.  ^Are  ye 
indebted  ony  thing  to  the  Laird  o'  Monkbarns?' 

^Indebted!  no,  not  I.  What  of  that?  what  makes  you 
think  so? ' 

*  Ye  maun  ken  I  was  at  the  shirra's  the  day;  for,  God 
help  me,  I  gang  about  a'  gates  like  the  troubled  spirit, 
and  wha  suld  come  whirling  there  in  a  post-chaise  but 
Monkbarns  in  an  unco  carfuffle.  Now  it's  no  a  little 
thing  that  will  make  his  honour  take  a  chaise  and  post- 
horse  twa  days  rinnin'.' 

Well,  well;  but  what  is  all  this  to  me?' 

'Ou,  ye'se  hear,  ye'se  hear.  Weel,  Monkbarns  is 
closeted  wi'  the  shirra  whatever  puir  folk  may  be  left 
thereout,  ye  needna  doubt  that;  the  gentlemen  are  aye 
unco  civil  amang  themsells.' 

'For  Heaven's  sake,  my  old  friend  — ' 

Xanna  ye  bid  me  gang  to  the  deevil  at  ance,  Mr. 
261 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


Level?  it  wad  be  mair  purpose  fa'rd  than  to  speak  o' 
heaven  in  that  impatient  gate.' 

*But  I  have  private  business  with  Lieutenant  Taffril 
here.' 

'Weel,  weel,  a'  in  gude  time/  said  the  beggar.  'I  can 
use  a  little  wee  bit  freedom  wi'  Mr.  Daniel  Taffril; 
mony's  the  peery  and  the  tap  I  worked  for  him  lang- 
syne,  for  I  was  a  worker  in  wood  as  weel  as  a  tinkler/ 

*  You  are  either  mad,  Adam,  or  have  a  mind  to  drive 
me  mad.' 

*Nane  o'  the  twa,'  said  Edie,  suddenly  changing  his 
manner  from  the  protracted  drawl  of  the  mendicant  to 
a  brief  and  decided  tone.  ^The  shirra  sent  for  his  clerk, 
and,  as  the  lad  is  rather  light  o'  the  tongue,  I  fand  it  was 
for  drawing  a  warrant  to  apprehend  you;  I  thought  it 
had  been  on  a  "fugie"  warrant  for  debt,  for  a'  body 
kens  the  Laird  likes  naebody  to  pit  his  hand  in  his 
pouch.  But  now  I  may  haud  my  tongue,  for  I  see  the 
M'Intyre  lad  and  Mr.  Lesley  coming  up,  and  I  guess 
that  Monkbarns's  purpose  was  very  kind,  and  that 
yours  is  muckle  waur  than  it  should  be.' 

The  antagonists  now  approached,  and  saluted  with 
the  stern  civility  which  befitted  the  occasion.  'What 
has  this  old  fellow  to  do  here?'  said  M'Intyre. 

'I  am  an  auld  fallow,'  said  Edie,  'but  I  am  also  an 
auld  soldier  o'  your  father's,  for  I  served  wi'  him  in  the 
42d.' 

'Serve  where  you  please,  you  have  no  title  to  intrude 
on  us,'  said  MTntyre,  'or'  —  and  he  lifted  his  cane  in 
terrorem,  though  without  the  idea  of  touching  the  old 
man. 

But  Ochiltree's  courage  was  roused  by  the  insult. 
262 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

*Haud  down  3^our  switch,  Captain  M'Intyre!  I  am  an 
auld  soldier,  as  I  said  before,  and  I'll  take  muckle  frae 
your  father's  son;  but  no  a  touch  o'  the  wand  while  my 
pike-staff  will  haud  thegither.' 

'Well,  well,  I  was  wrong  —  I  was  wrong,'  said  M'In- 
tyre. 'Here's  a  crown  for  you;  go  your  ways.  What's 
the  matter  now? ' 

The  old  man  drew  himself  up  to  the  full  advantage  of 
his  uncommon  height,  and  in  despite  of  his  dress,  which 
indeed  had  more  of  the  pilgrim  than  the  ordinary 
beggar,  looked,  from  height,  manner,  and  emphasis  of 
voice  and  gesture,  rather  like  a  grey  palmer  or  eremite 
preacher,  the  ghostly  counsellor  of  the  young  men  who 
were  around  him,  than  the  object  of  their  charity.  His 
speech,  indeed,  was  as  homely  as  his  habit,  but  as  bold 
and  unceremonious  as  his  erect  and  dignified  demean- 
our. '  What  are  ye  come  here  for,  young  men? '  he  said, 
addressing  himself  to  the  surprised  audience;  'are  ye 
come  amongst  the  most  lovely  works  of  God  to  break 
his  laws?  Have  ye  left  the  works  of  man,  the  houses 
and  the  cities  that  are  but  clay  and  dust,  like  those  that 
built  them ;  and  are  ye  come  here  among  the  peaceful 
hills,  and  by  the  quiet  waters,  that  will  last  whiles  aught 
earthly  shall  endure,  to  destroy  each  other's  lives,  that 
will  have  but  an  unco  short  time,  by  the  course  of  na- 
ture, to  make  up  a  lang  account  at  the  close  o't?  O  sirs! 
hae  ye  brothers,  sisters,  fathers,  that  hae  tended  ye, 
and  mothers  that  hae  travailed  for  ye,  friends  that 
hae  ca'd  ye  like  a  piece  o'  their  ain  heart?  And  is  this 
the  way  ye  tak  to  make  them  childless  and  brotherless 
and  friendless?  Ohon!  it's  an  ill  f eight  whar  he  that 
wins  has  the  warst  o't.  Think  on't^  bairns.  I'm  a  puir 

263 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


man,  but  I'm  an  auld  man  too;  and  what  my  poverty 
takes  awa  frae  the  weight  o'  my  counsel,  grey  hairs  and 
a  truthfu'  heart  should  add  it  twenty  times.  Gang 
hame,  gang  hame,  like  gude  lads;  the  French  will  be 
ower  to  harry  us  ane  o'  thae  days,  and  ye  '11  hae  feight- 
ing  eneugh,  and  maybe  auld  Edie  will  hirple  out  him- 
sell  if  he  can  get  a  feal-dike  to  lay  his  gun  ower,  and  may 
live  to  tell  you  whilk  o'  ye  does  the  best  where  there's 
a  good  cause  afore  ye.' 

There  was  something  in  the  undaunted  and  inde- 
pendent manner,  hardy  sentiment,  and  manly,  rude 
elocution  of  the  old  man  that  had  its  elBfect  upon  the 
party,  and  particularly  on  the  seconds,  whose  pride 
was  uninterested  in  bringing  the  dispute  to  a  bloody 
arbitrement,  and  who,  on  the  contrary,  eagerly  watched 
for  an  opportunity  to  recommend  reconciliation. 

'Upon  my  word,  Mr.  Lesley,'  said  Taffril,  'old  Adam 
speaks  Uke  an  oracle.  Our  friends  here  were  very  angry 
yesterday,  and  of  course  very  foolish.  To-day  they 
should  be  cool,  or  at  least  we  must  be  so  in  their  behalf. 
I  think  the  word  should  be  forget  and  forgive  on  both 
sides,  that  we  should  all  shake  hands,  fire  these  foolish 
crackers  in  the  air,  and  go  home  to  sup  in  a  body  at  the 
Graeme's  Arms.* 

'I  would  heartily  recommend  it,'  said  Lesley;  'for, 
amidst  a  great  deal  of  heat  and  irritation  on  both  sides, 
I  confess  myself  unable  to  discover  any  rational  ground 
of  quarrel.' 

'Gentlemen,'  said  M'Intyre,  very  coldly,  'all  this 
should  have  been  thought  of  before.  In  my  opinion, 
persons  that  have  carried  this  matter  so  far  as  we  have 
done,  and  who  should  part  without  carrying  it  any 

264 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

farther,  might  go  to  supper  at  the  Graeme's  Arms  very 
joyously,  but  would  rise  the  next  morning  with  reputa- 
tions as  ragged  as  our  friend  here,  who  has  obliged  us 
with  a  rather  unnecessary  display  of  his  oratory.  I 
speak  for  myself,  that  I  find  myself  bound  to  call  upon 
you  to  proceed  without  more  delay/ 

^And  I,'  said  Lovel,  ^as  I  never  desired  any,  have  also 
to  request  these  gentlemen  to  arrange  preliminaries  as 
fast  as  possible.' 

'Bairns,  bairns!'  cried  old  Ochiltree;  but,  perceiv- 
ing he  was  no  longer  attended  to  —  'Madmen,  I  should 
say;  but  your  blood  be  on  your  heads!'  And  the  old 
man  drew  off  from  the  ground,  which  was  now  measured 
out  by  the  seconds,  and  continued  muttering  and  talk- 
ing to  himself  in  sullen  indignation,  mixed  with  anxiety, 
and  with  a  strong  feeling  of  painful  curiosity.  Without 
paying  further  attention  to  his  presence  or  remon- 
strances, Mr.  Lesley  and  the  Lieutenant  made  the 
necessary  arrangements  for  the  duel,  and  it  was  agreed 
that  both  parties  should  fire  when  Mr.  Lesley  dropped 
his  handkerchief. 

The  fatal  sign  was  given,  and  both  fired  almost  in  the 
same  moment.  Captain  MTn tyre's  ball  grazed  the  side 
of  his  opponent,  but  did  not  draw  blood.  That  of  Lovel 
was  more  true  to  the  aim:  M'Intyre  reeled  and  fell. 
Raising  himself  on  his  arm,  his  first  exclamation  was,  'It 
is  nothing  —  it  is  nothing;  give  us  the  other  pistols.' 
But  in  an  instant  he  said  in  a  lower  tone,  'I  believe  I 
have  enough,  and  what 's  worse,  I  fear  I  deserve  it.  Mr, 
Lovel,  or  whatever  your  name  is,  fly  and  save  your- 
self. Bear  all  witness,  I  provoked  this  matter.'  Then, 
raising  himself  again  on  his  arm,  he  added,  'Shake 

265 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


hands,  LoveL  I  believe  you  to  be  a  gentleman;  forgive 
my  rudeness,  and  I  forgive  you  my  death.  My  poor 

sister!' 

The  surgeon  came  up  to  perform  his  part  of  the  trag- 
edy, and  Lovel  stood  gazing  on  the  evil  of  which  he  had 
been  the  active,  though  unwilling,  cause  with  a  dizzy 
and  bewildered  eye.  He  was  roused  from  his  trance  by 
the  grasp  of  the  mendicant  —  *Why  stand  you  gazing 
on  your  deed?  What's  doomed  is  doomed,  what's  done 
is  past  recalling.  But  awa,  awa,  if  ye  wad  save  your 
young  blood  from  a  shamefu'  death.  I  see  the  men  out 
by  yonder  that  are  come  ower  late  to  part  ye;  but  out 
and  alack!  sune  eneugh  and  ower  sune  to  drag  ye  to 
prison.' 

'He  is  right  —  he  is  right,'  exclaimed  Taffril;  'you 
must  not  attempt  to  get  on  the  highroad;  get  into  the 
wood  till  night.  My  brig  will  be  under  sail  by  that 
time,  and  at  three  in  the  morning,  when  the  tide  will 
serve,  I  shall  have  the  boat  waiting  for  you  at  the  Mus- 
sel Crag.  Away,  away,  for  Heaven's  sake!' 

'0  yes,  fly,  fly!'  repeated  the  wounded  man,  his 
words  faltering  with  convulsive  sobs. 

'Come  with  me,'  said  the  mendicant,  almost  drag- 
ging him  off,  'the  Captain's  plan  is  the  best;  I'll  carry 
ye  to  a  place  where  ye  might  be  concealed  in  the  mean- 
time, were  they  to  seek  ye  wi'  sleuth-hounds.' 

'Go,  go,'  again  urged  Lieutenant  Taffril;  'to  stay 
here  is  mere  madness.' 

'It  was  worse  madness  to  have  come  hither,'  said 
Lovel,  pressing  his  hand.  'But  farewell!'  and  he  fol- 
lowed Ochiltree  into  the  recesses  of  the  wood. 


CHAPTER  XXI 


The  Lord  Abbot  had  a  soul 
Subtile  and  quick  and  searching  as  the  fire? 
By  magic  stairs  he  went  as  deep  as  hell. 
And  if  in  devils*  possession  gold  be  kept, 
He  brought  some  sure  from  thence;  't  is  hid  in  caves. 
Known,  save  to  me,  to  none. 

The  Wonder  of  a  Kingiome, 

LovEL  almost  mechanically  followed  the  beggar,  who 
led  the  way  with  a  hasty  and  steady  pace,  through  bush 
and  bramble,  avoiding  the  beaten  path,  and  often  turn- 
ing to  listen  whether  there  were  any  sounds  of  pursuit 
behind  them.  They  sometimes  descended  into  the  very 
bed  of  the  torrent,  sometimes  kept  a  narrow  and  pre- 
carious path,  that  the  sheep  (which,  with  the  sluttish 
negligence  towards  property  of  that  sort  universal 
in  Scotland,  were  allowed  to  stray  in  the  copse)  had 
made  along  the  very  verge  of  its  overhanging  banks. 
From  time  to  time  Lovel  had  a  glance  of  the  path  which 
he  had  traversed  the  day  before  in  company  with  Sir 
Arthur,  the  Antiquary,  and  the  young  ladies.  Dejected, 
embarrassed,  and  occupied  by  a  thousand  inquietudes 
as  he  then  was,  what  would  he  now  have  given  to  regain 
the  sense  of  innocence  which  alone  can  counterbalance 
a  thousand  evils!  'Yet,  then,'  such  was  his  hasty  and 
involuntary  reflection  —  'even  then,  guiltless  and 
valued  by  all  around  me,  I  thought  myself  unhappy, 
What  am  I  now,  with  this  young  man's  blood  upon  my 
hands?  The  feeling  of  pride  which  urged  me  to  the 
deed  has  now  deserted  me,  as  the  actual  fiend  himself 

267 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


is  said  to  do  those  whom  he  has  tempted  to  guilt.'  Even 
his  affection  for  Miss  Wardour  sunk  for  the  time  be- 
fore the  first  pangs  of  remorse,  and  he  thought  he  could 
have  encountered  every  agony  of  slighted  love  to  have 
had  the  conscious  freedom  from  blood-guiltiness  which 
he  possessed  in  the  morning. 

These  painful  reflections  were  not  interrupted  by  any 
conversation  on  the  part  of  his  guide,  who  threaded  the 
thicket  before  him,  now  holding  back  the  sprays  to 
make  his  path  easy,  now  exhorting  him  to  make  haste, 
now  muttering  to  himself,  after  the  custom  of  solitary 
and  neglected  old  age,  words  which  might  have  escaped 
LoveFs  ear  even  had  he  listened  to  them,  or  which, 
apprehended  and  retained,  were  too  isolated  to  convey 
any  connected  meaning  —  a  habit  which  may  be  often 
observed  among  people  of  the  old  man's  age  and 
calling. 

At  length,  as  Lovel,  exhausted  by  his  late  indisposi- 
tion, the  harrowing  feelings  by  which  he  was  agitated, 
and  the  exertion  necessary  to  keep  up  with  his  guide  in 
a  path  so  rugged,  began  to  flag  and  fall  behind,  two  or 
three  very  precarious  steps  placed  him  on  the  front  of  a 
precipice  overhung  with  brushwood  and  copse.  Here  a 
cave,  as  narrow  in  its  entrance  as  a  fox-earth,  was  indi- 
cated by  a  small  fissure  in  the  rock,  screened  by  the 
boughs  of  an  aged  oak,  which,  anchored  by  its  thick  and 
twisted  roots  in  the  upper  part  of  the  cleft,  flung  its 
branches  almost  straight  outward  from  the  cliff,  con- 
cealing it  effectually  from  all  observation.  It  might  in- 
deed have  escaped  the  attention  even  of  those  who  had 
stood  at  its  very  opening,  so  uninviting  was  the  portal 
at  which  the  beggar  entered.  But  within,  the  cavern 

268 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


was  higher  and  more  roomy,  cut  into  two  separate 
branches,  which,  intersecting  each  other  at  right  an- 
gles, formed  an  emblem  of  the  cross,  and  indicated  the 
abode  of  an  anchoret  of  former  times.  There  are  many 
caves  of  the  same  kind  in  different  parts  of  Scotland. 
I  need  only  instance  those  of  Gorton,  near  Rosslyn,  in 
a  scene  well  known  to  the  admirers  of  romantic  nature. 

The  light  within  the  cave  was  a  dusky  twilight  at 
the  entrance,  which  failed  altogether  in  the  inner  re- 
cesses. 'Few  folks  ken  o' this  place,' said  the  old  man; 
'  to  the  best  o'  my  knowledge,  there 's  just  twa  living  by 
my  sell,  and  that's  Jingling  Jock  and  the  Lang  Linker. 
I  have  had  mony  a  thought,  that  when  I  faund  mysell 
auld  and  forfairn,  and  no  able  to  enjoy  God's  blessed  air 
ony  langer,  I  wad  drag  mysell  here  wi'  a  pickle  aitmeal 
—  and  see,  there's  a  bit  bonny  drapping  well  that  pop- 
ples that  selfsame  gate  simmer  and  winter  —  and  I  wad 
e'en  streek  mysell  out  here,  and  abide  my  removal,  like 
an  auld  dog  that  trails  its  useless  ugsome  carcass  into 
some  bush  or  bracken,  no  to  gie  living  things  a  sconner 
wi'  the  sight  o't  when  it's  dead.  Ay,  and  then,  when 
the  dogs  barked  at  the  lone  farmstead,  the  gudewife 
wad  cry,  "Whisht,  stirra,  that'll  be  auld  Edie,"  and 
the  bits  o'  weans  wad  up,  puir  things,  and  toddle  to  the 
door,  to  pu'  in  the  auld  Blue- Gown  that  mends  a'  their 
bonny  dies;  but  there  wad  be  nae  mair  word  o'  Edie, 
I  trow.' 

He  then  led  Lovel,  who  followed  him  unresistingly, 
into  one  of  the  interior  branches  of  the  cave.  *Here,' 
he  said,  'is  a  bit  turnpike  stair  that  gaes  up  to  the  auld 
kirk  abune.  Some  folks  say  this  place  was  howkit  out 
by  the  monks  lang  syne  to  hide  their  treasure  in,  and 

269 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

some  said  that  they  used  to  bring  things  into  the  abbey 
this  gate  by  night,  that  they  durstna  sae  weel  hae 
brought  in  by  the  main  port  and  in  open  day.  And 
some  said  that  ane  o'  them  turned  a  saint  —  or  aiblins 
wad  hae  had  folk  think  sae  —  and  settled  him  down  in 
this  St.  Ruth's  cell,  as  the  auld  folks  aye  ca'd  it,  and 
garr'd  big  the  stair,  that  he  might  gang  up  to  the  kirk 
when  they  were  at  the  divine  service.  The  Laird  o' 
Monkbarns  wad  hae  a  hantle  to  say  about  it,  as  he  has 
about  maist  things,  if  he  kend  only  about  the  place* 
But  whether  it  was  made  for  man's  devices  or  God's 
service,  I  have  seen  ower  muckle  sin  done  in  it  in  my 
day,  and  far  ower  muckle  have  I  been  partaker  of;  ay, 
even  here  in  this  dark  cove.  Mony  a  gudewife 's  been 
wondering  what  for  the  red  cock  didna  craw  her  up  in  the 
morning,  when  he's  been  roasting,  puir  fallow,  in  this 
dark  hole.  And,  ohon!  I  wish  that  and  the  like  o'  that 
had  been  the  warst  o't!  Whiles  they  wad  hae  heard  the 
din  we  were  making  in  the  very  bowels  o'  the  earth, 
when  Sanders  Aikwood,  that  was  forester  in  thae  days, 
the  father  o'  Ringan  that  now  is,  was  gaun  daundering 
about  the  wood  at  e'en  to  see  after  the  Laird's  game; 
and  whiles  he  wad  hae  seen  a  glance  o'  the  Hght  frae  the 
door  o'  the  cave,  flaughtering  against  the  hazels  on  the 
other  bank,  and  then  siccan  stories  as  Sanders  had  about 
the  worricows  and  gyre-carlins  that  haunted  about  the 
auld  wa's  at  e'en,  and  the  lights  that  he  had  seen,  and 
the  cries  that  he  had  heard,  when  there  was  nae  mortal 
ee  open  but  his  ain;  and  eh!  as  he  wad  thrum  them  ower 
and  ower  to  the  like  o'  me  ayont  the  ingle  at  e'en,  and 
as  I  wad  gie  the  auld  silly  carle  grane  for  grane,  and  tale 
for  tale,  though  I  kend  muckle  better  about  it  than  ever 

270 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


he  did.  Ay,  ay,  they  were  daft  days  thae;  but  they  were 
a'  vanity  and  waur,  and  it 's  fitting  that  thae  wha  hae 
led  a  light  and  evil  Hfe,  and  abused  charity  when  they 
were  young,  suld  aiblins  come  to  lack  it  when  they  are 
auld.' 

While  Ochiltree  was  thus  recounting  the  exploits 
and  tricks  of  his  earlier  life,  with  a  tone  in  which  glee 
and  compunction  alternately  predominated,  his  unfort- 
unate auditor  had  sat  down  upon  the  hermit's  seat, 
hewn  out  of  the  solid  rock,  and  abandoned  himself  to 
that  lassitude  both  of  mind  and  body  which  generally 
follows  a  course  of  events  that  have  agitated  both.  The 
effect  of  his  late  indisposition,  which  had  much  weak- 
ened his  system,  contributed  to  his  lethargic  despond- 
ency. *The  puir  bairn,'  said  auld  Edie,  ^an  he  sleeps  in 
this  damp  hole  he  '11  maybe  wauken  nae  mair,  or  catch 
some  sair  disease;  it's  no  the  same  to  him  as  to  the  like 
o'  us,  that  can  sleep  ony  gate  an  anes  our  wames  are  fu'. 
Sit  up,  Maister  Lovel,  lad;  after  a's  come  and  gane,  I 
daresay  the  captain  lad  will  do  weel  eneugh;  and,  after 
a',  ye  are  no  the  first  that  has  had  this  misfortune.  I 
hae  seen  mony  a  man  killed,  and  helped  to  kill  them 
mysell,  though  there  was  nae  quarrel  between  us;  and 
if  it  isna  wrang  to  kill  folk  we  have  nae  quarrel  wi',  just 
because  they  wear  another  sort  of  a  cockade  and  speak 
a  foreign  language,  I  canna  see  but  a  man  may  have 
excuse  for  killing  his  ain  mortal  foe,  that  comes  armed 
to  the  fair  field  to  kill  him.  I  dinna  say  it's  right  — 
God  forbid  —  or  that  it  isna  sinfu'  to  take  away  what 
ye  canna  restore,  and  that 's  the  breath  of  man,  whilk  is 
in  his  nostrils;  but  I  say  it  is  a  sin  to  be  forgiven  if  it's 
repented  of.  Sinfu'  men  are  we  a' ;  but  if  ye  wad  believe 

271 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


an  auld  grey  sinner  that  has  seen  the  evil  o'  his  ways, 
there  is  as  much  promise  atween  the  twa  boards  o'  the 
Testament  as  wad  save  the  warst  o'  us,  could  we  but 
think  sae/ 

With  such  scraps  of  comfort  and  of  divinity  as  he 
possessed,  the  mendicant  thus  continued  to  solicit  and 
compel  the  attention  of  Lovel  until  the  twilight  began 
to  fade  into  night.  *Now,'  said  Ochiltree,  will  carry 
ye  to  a  mair  convenient  place,  where  I  hae  sat  mony  a 
time  to  hear  the  howlit  crying  out  of  the  ivy  tod,  and  to 
see  the  moonlight  come  through  the  auld  windows  o' 
the  ruins.  There  can  be  naebody  come  here  after  this 
time  o'  night;  and  if  they  hae  made  ony  search,  thae 
blackguard  shirra'-officers  and  constables,  it  will  hae 
been  ower  lang  syne.  Od,  they  are  as  great  cowards 
as  ither  folk,  wi'  a'  their  warrants  and  king's  keys.  I 
hae  gien  some  o'  them  a  gliff  in  my  day,  when  they  were 
coming  rather  ower  near  me.  But,  lauded  be  grace  for 
it!  they  canna  stir  me  now  for  ony  waur  than  an  auld 
man  and  a  beggar,  and  my  badge  is  a  gude  protection; 
and  then  Miss  Isabella  Wardour  is  a  tower  o'  strength, 
ye  ken  (Lovel  sighed).  Aweel,  dinna  be  cast  down: 
bowls  may  a'  row  right  yet;  gie  the  lassie  time  to  ken 
her  mind.  She's  the  wale  o'  the  country  for  beauty, 
and  a  gude  friend  o'  mine:  I  gang  by  the  bridewell  as 
safe  as  by  the  kirk  on  a  Sabbath;  deil  ony  o'  them  daur 
hurt  a  hair  o'  auld  Edie's  head  now.  I  keep  the  crown 
o'  the  causey  when  I  gae  to  the  borough,  and  rub  shou- 
thers  wi'  a  bailie  wi'  as  little  concern  as  an  he  were  a 
brock.' 

While  the  mendicant  spoke  thus,  he  was  busied  in 
removing  a  few  loose  stones  in  one  angle  of  the  cave, 

272 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

which  obscured  the  entrance  of  the  staircase  of  which 
he  had  spoken,  and  led  the  way  into  it,  followed  by 
Lovel  in  passive  silence. 

'The  air's  free  eneugh/  said  the  old  man;  ^the 
monks  took  care  o'  that,  for  they  werena  a  lang- 
breathed  generation,  I  reckon;  they  hae  contrived  queer 
tirlie-wirlie  holes,  that  gang  out  to  the  open  air  and 
keep  the  stair  as  caller  as  a  kail-blade.' 

Lovel  accordingly  found  the  staircase  well  aired,  and, 
though  narrow,  it  was  neither  ruinous  nor  long,  but 
speedily  admitted  them  into  a  narrow  gallery  con- 
trived to  run  within  the  side  wall  of  the  chancel,  from 
which  it  received  air  and  light  through  apertures  in- 
geniously hidden  amid  the  florid  ornaments  of  the 
Gothic  architecture. 

'This  secret  passage  ance  gaed  round  great  part  o^ 
the  biggin,'  said  the  beggar,  'and  through  the  wa'  o' 
the  place  IVe  heard  Monkbarns  ca'  the  refractory 
(meaning  probably  refectory),  and  so  awa  to  the  prior's 
ain  house.  It's  like  he  could  use  it  to  hsten  what  the 
monks  were  saying  at  meal-time,  and  then  he  might 
come  ben  here  and  see  that  they  were  busy  skreighing 
awa  wi'  the  psalms  doun  below  there;  and  then,  when  he 
saw  a'  was  right  and  tight,  he  might  step  awa  and  fetch 
in  a  bonnie  lass  at  the  cove  yonder,  for  they  were  queer 
hands  the  monks,  unless  mony  lees  is  made  on  them. 
But  our  folk  were  at  great  pains  lang  syne  to  big  up  the 
passage  in  some  parts,  and  pu'  it  down  in  others,  for 
fear  o'  some  uncanny  body  getting  into  it,  and  finding 
their  way  down  to  the  cove.  It  wad  hae  been  a  fash- 
ions job  that;  by  my  certie,  some  o'  our  necks  wad  hae 
been  ewking.' 

B  273 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


They  now  came  to  a  place  where  the  gallery  was  en- 
larged into  a  small  circle,  sufficient  to  contain  a  stone 
seat.  A  niche,  constructed  exactly  before  it,  projected 
forward  into  the  chancel,  and  as  its  sides  were  latticed, 
as  it  were,  with  perforated  stonework,  it  commanded  a 
full  view  of  the  chancel  in  every  direction,  and  was  pro- 
bably constructed,  as  Edie  intimated,  to  be  a  conven- 
ient watch-tower  from  which  the  superior  priest,  him- 
self unseen,  might  watch  the  behaviour  of  his  monks, 
and  ascertain  by  personal  inspection  their  punctual  at- 
tendance upon  those  rites  of  devotion  which  his  rank 
exempted  him  from  sharing  with  them.  As  this  niche 
made  one  of  a  regular  series  which  stretched  along  the 
wall  of  the  chancel,  and  in  no  respect  differed  from 
the  rest  when  seen  from  below,  the  secret  station, 
screened  as  it  was  by  the  stone  figure  of  St.  Michael 
and  the  Dragon  and  the  open  tracery  around  the 
niche,  was  completely  hid  from  observation.  The  pri- 
vate passage,  confined  to  its  pristine  breadth,  had 
originally  continued  beyond  this  seat;  but  the  jealous 
precautions  of  the  vagabonds  who  frequented  the  cave 
of  St.  Ruth  had  caused  them  to  build  it  carefully  up 
with  hewn  stones  from  the  ruin. 

*We  shall  be  better  here,'  said  Edie,  seating  himself 
on  the  stone  bench  and  stretching  the  lappet  of  his 
blue  gown  upon  the  spot,  when  he  motioned  Lovel  to  sit 
down  beside  him  —  *we  shall  be  better  here  than  doun 
below;  the  air 's  free  and  mild,  and  the  savour  of  the 
wall  flowers  and  siccan  shrubs  as  grow  on  thae  ruined 
wa's  is  far  mair  refreshing  than  the  damp  smell  doun 
below  yonder.  They  smell  sweetest  by  night-time  thae 
flowers,  and  they're  maist  aye  seen  about  ruined  build- 

274 


THE  ANTIQUx\RY 

ings.  Now,  Maister  Lovel,  can  ony  o'  you  scholars  gie 
a  gude  reason  for  that? ' 
Lovel  replied  in  the  negative. 

'I  am  thinking,'  resumed  the  beggar,  ^that  they'll 
be  Uke  mony  folk's  gude  gifts,  that  often  seem  maist 
gracious  in  adversity;  or  maybe  it's  a  parable, to  teach 
us  no  to  slight  them  that  are  in  the  darkness  of  sin 
and  the  decay  of  tribulation,  since  God  sends  odours  to 
refresh  the  mirkest  hour,  and  flowers  and  pleasant 
bushes  to  clothe  the  ruined  buildings.  And  now  I  wad 
like  a  wise  man  to  tell  me  whether  Heaven  is  maist 
pleased  wi'  the  sight  we  are  looking  upon —  thae  pleas- 
ant and  quiet  lang  streaks  o'  moonhght  that  are  lying 
sae  still  on  the  floor  o'  this  auld  kirk,  and  glancing 
through  the  great  pillars  and  stanchions  o'  the  carved 
windows,  and  just  dancing  like  on  the  leaves  o'  the 
dark  ivy  as  the  breath  o'  wind  shakes  it  —  I  wonder 
whether  this  is  mair  pleasing  to  Heaven  than  when  it 
was  lighted  up  wi'  lamps,  and  candles  nae  doubt,  and 
roughies,  and  wi'  the  mirth  and  the  frankincent  that 
they  speak  of  in  the  Holy  Scripture,  and  wi'  organs 
assuredly,  and  men  and  women  singers,  and  sackbuts, 
and  dulcimers,  and  a'  instruments  o'  music  —  I  wonder 
if  that  was  acceptable,  or  whether  it  is  of  these  grand 
parafle  o'  ceremonies  that  Holy  Writ  says,  '^it  is  an 
abomination  to  me."  I  am  thinking,  Maister  Lovel,  if 
twa  puir  contrite  spirits  like  yours  and  mine  fand  grace 
to  make  our  petition  — ' 

Here  Lovel  laid  his  hand  eagerly  on  the  mendicant's 
arm,  saying,  'Hush!  I  heard  some  one  speak.' 

'I  am  dull  o'  hearing,'  answered  Edie  in  a  whisper, 
'but  we  're  surely  safe  here;  where  was  the  sound?' 

27s 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


Lovel  pointed  to  the  door  of  the  chancel,  which, 
highly  ornamented,  occupied  the  west  end  of  the  build- 
ing, surmounted  by  the  carved  window,  which  let  in 
a  flood  of  moonlight  over  it. 

^They  can  be  nane  o'  our  folk,'  said  Edie  in  the  same 
low  and  cautious  tone;  Hhere 's  but  twa  o'  them  kens 
o'  the  place,  and  they're  mony  a  mile  off,  if  they  are 
still  bound  on  their  weary  pilgrimage.  I  '11  never  think 
it's  the  officers  here  at  this  time  o'  night.  I  am  nae  be- 
liever in  auld  wives'  stories  about  ghaists,  though  this 
is  gey  like  a  place  for  them.  But,  mortal  or  of  the  other 
world,  here  they  come!  twa  men  and  a  light.' 

And  in  very  truth,  while  the  mendicant  spoke,  two 
human  figures  darkened  with  their  shadows  the  en- 
trance of  the  chancel  which  had  before  opened  to  the 
moonlight  meadow  beyond,  and  the  small  lantern  which 
one  of  them  displayed  glimmered  pale  in  the  clear  and 
strong  beams  of  the  moon,  as  the  evening  star  does 
among  the  Hghts  of  the  departing  day.  The  first  and 
most  obvious  idea  was  that,  despite  the  asseverations  of 
Edie  Ochiltree,  the  persons  who  approached  the  ruins 
at  an  hour  so  uncommon  must  be  the  officers  of  justice 
in  quest  of  Lovel.  But  no  part  of  their  conduct  con- 
firmed the  suspicion.  A  touch  and  a  whisper  from  the 
old  man  warned  Lovel  that  his  best  course  was  to  re- 
main quiet  and  watch  their  motions  from  their  present 
place  of  concealment.  Should  anything  appear  to  ren- 
der retreat  necessary,  they  had  behind  them  the  pri- 
vate staircase  and  cavern,  by  means  of  which  they 
could  escape  into  the  wood  long  before  any  danger  of 
close  pursuit.  They  kept  themselves,  therefore,  as  still 
as  possible,  and  observed  with  eager  and  anxious  curi- 

276 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


osity  every  accent  and  motion  of  these  nocturnal  wan- 
derers. 

After  conversing  together  some  time  in  whispers,  the 
two  figures  advanced  into  the  middle  of  the  chancel, 
and  a  voice,  which  Lovel  at  once  recognised  from  its 
tone  and  dialect  to  be  that  of  Dousterswivel,  pro- 
nounced in  a  louder  but  still  a  smothered  tone,  ^Indeed, 
mine  goot  sir,  dere  cannot  be  one  finer  hour  nor  season 
for  dis  great  purpose.  You  shall  see,  mine  goot  sir, 
dat  it  is  all  one  bibble-babble  dat  Mr.  Oldenbuck  says, 
and  dat  he  knows  no  more  of  what  he  speaks  than  one 
little  child.  Mine  soul!  he  expects  to  get  as  rich  as  one 
Jew  for  his  poor  dirty  one  hundred  pounds,  which  I  care 
no  more  about,  by  mine  honest  wort,  than  I  care  for  an 
hundred  stivers.  But  to  you,  my  most  munificent  and 
reverend  patron,  I  will  show  all  de  secrets  dat  art  can 
show;  ay,  de  secret  of  de  great  Pymander.' 

'That  other  ane,'  whispered  Edie,  *  maun  be,  accord- 
ing to  a'  likelihood,  Sir  Arthur  Wardour.  I  ken  naebody 
but  himsell  wad  come  here  at  this  time  at  e'en  wi'  that 
German  blackguard.  Ane  wad  think  he's  bewitched 
him;  he  gars  him  e'en  trow  that  chalk  is  cheese.  Let's 
see  what  they  can  be  doing.' 

This  interruption,  and  the  low  tone  in  which  Sir 
Arthur  spoke,  made  Lovel  lose  all  Sir  Arthur's  answer 
to  the  adept,  excepting  the  last  three  emphatic  words, 
'Very  great  expense';  to  which  Dousterswivel  at  once 
replied,  'Expenses!  To  be  sure,  dere  must  be  de  great 
expenses;  you  do  not  expect  to  reap  before  you  do  sow 
de  seed :  de  expense  is  de  seed,  de  riches  and  de  mine 
of  goot  metal,  and  now  de  great  big  chests  of  plate, 
they  are  de  crop,  vary  goot  crop  too,  on  mine  wort. 

277 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


Now,  Sir  Arthur,  you  have  sowed  this  ni^t  one  little 
seed  of  ten  guineas  like  one  pinch  of  snuff,  or  so  big, 
and  if  you  do  not  reap  de  great  harvest  —  dat  is,  de 
great  harvest  for  de  little  pinch  of  seed,  for  it  must  be 
proportions,  you  must  know  —  then  never  call  one 
honest  man  Herman  Dousterswivel.  Now  you  see,  mine 
patron  —  for  I  will  not  conceal  mine  secret  from  you 
at  all  —  you  see  this  little  plate  of  silver,  you  know 
de  moon  measureth  de  whole  zodiack  in  de  space  of 
twenty-eight  day;  every  child  knows  dat.  Well,  I  take 
a  silver  plate  when  she  is  in  her  fifteenth  mansion,  which 
mansion  is  in  de  head  of  Libra,  and  I  engrave  upon  one 
side  de  worts,  SI)eU6arfiicl)emot!)  S>cj)artacj)an  —  dat  is,  de 
emblems  of  de  intelligence  of  de  moon  —  and  I  make 
his  picture  Uke  a  flying  serpent  with  a  turkey-cock's 
head — vary  well.  Then  upon  this  side  I  make  de  table 
of  de  moon,  which  is  a  square  of  nine,  multiplied  into 
itself,  with  eighty-one  numbers  on  every  side,  and  di- 
ameter nine  —  dere  it  is  done  very  proper.  Now  I  will 
make  dis  avail  me  at  de  change  of  every  quarter-moon 
dat  I  shall  find  by  de  same  proportions  of  expenses 
I  lay  out  in  de  suffumigations,  as  nine  to  de  product 
of  nine  multiplied  into  itself.  But  I  shall  find  no 
more  to-night  as  may  be  two  or  dree  times  nine, 
because  dere  is  a  thwarting  power  in  de  house  of  as- 
cendency.' 

*But,  Dousterswivel,'  said  the  simple  Baronet,  ^does 
not  this  look  like  magic?  I  am  a  true  though  unworthy 
son  of  the  Episcopal  Church,  and  I  will  have  nothing 
to  do  with  the  foul  fiend.' 

^Bah!  bah!  not  a  bit  magic  in  it  at  all,  not  a  bit.  It  is 
all  founded  on  de  planetary  influence,  and  de  sympathy 

278 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


and  force  of  numbers.  I  will  show  you  much  finer  dan 
dis.  I  do  not  say  dere  is  not  de  spirit  in  it,  because  of 
de  suflfumigation;  but,  if  you  are  not  afraid,  he  shall 
not  be  invisible.' 

have  no  curiosity  to  see  him  at  all,'  said  the 
Baronet,  whose  courage  seemed,  from  a  certain  quaver 
in  his  accent,  to  have  taken  a  fit  of  the  ague. 

'Dat  is  great  pity,'  said  Dousterswivel;  should 
have  Uked  to  show  you  de  spirit  dat  guard  dis  treasure 
like  one  fierce  watch-dog;  but  I  know  how  to  manage 
him.  You  would  not  care  to  see  him?' 

'Not  at  all,'  answered  the  Baronet,  in  a  tone  of  feigned 
indifference;  'I  think  we  have  but  little  time.' 

'You  shall  pardon  me,  my  patron,  it  is  not  yet  twelve, 
and  twelve  precise  is  just  our  planetary  hours;  and  I 
could  show  you  de  spirit  vary  well  in  de  meanwhile, 
just  for  pleasure.  You  see  I  would  draw  a  pentagon 
within  a  circle,  which  is  no  trouble  at  all,  and  make  my 
suffumigation  within  it,  and  dere  we  would  be  Uke  in 
one  strong  castle,  and  you  would  hold  de  sword  while  I 
did  say  de  needful  worts.  Den  you  should  see  de  solid 
wall  open  like  de  gate  of  ane  city,  and  den  —  let  me  see 
—  ay,  you  should  see  first  one  stag  pursued  by  three 
black  greyhounds,  and  they  should  pull  him  down  as 
they  do  at  de  Elector's  great  hunting-match,  and  den 
one  ugly,  little,  nasty  black  negro  should  appear  and 
take  de  stag  from  them,  and  paf,  all  should  be  gone;  den 
you  should  hear  horns  winded  dat  all  de  ruins  should 
ring  —  mine  wort,  they  should  play  fine  hunting-piece, 
as  goot  as  him  you  call'd  Fischer  with  his  oboi;  vary 
well,  den  comes  one  herald,  as  we  call  Ehrenhold,  wind- 
ing his  horn,  and  den  come  de  great  Peolphan,  called  the 

279 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


Mighty  Hunter  of  de  North,  mounted  on  hims  black 
steed.  But  you  would  not  care  to  see  all  this?'  ^ 

^Why,  I  am  not  afraid/  answered  the  poor  Baronet, 
'if  —  that  is  —  does  anything  —  any  great  mischiefs  — 
happen  on  such  occasions? ' 

'Bah,  mischiefs!  no!  Sometimes,  if  de  circle  be  no 
quite  just,  or  de  beholder  be  de  frightened  coward,  and 
not  hold  de  sword  firm  and  straight  towards  him,  de 
Great  Hunter  will  take  his  advantage,  and  drag  him 
exorcist  out  of  de  circle  and  throttle  him.  Dat  does 
happens.' 

'Well  then,  Dousterswivel,  with  every  confidence  in 
my  courage  and  your  skill,  we  will  dispense  with  this 
apparition  and  go  on  to  the  business  of  the  night.' 

'With  all  mine  heart,  it  is  just  one  thing  to  me,  and 
now  it  is  de  time;  hold  you  de  sword  till  I  kindle  de  Uttle 
what  you  call  chip.' 

Dousterswivel  accordingly  set  fire  to  a  Kttle  pile  of 
chips,  touched  and  prepared  with  some  bituminous  sub- 
stance to  make  them  burn  fiercely;  and  when  the  flame 
was  at  the  highest,  and  lightened  with  its  short-lived 
glare  all  the  ruins  around,  the  German  flung  in  a  hand- 
ful of  perfumes,  which  produced  a  strong  and  pungent 
odour.  The  exorcist  and  his  pupil  both  were  so  much 
affected  as  to  cough  and  sneeze  heartily;  and,  as  the 
vapour  floated  around  the  pillars  of  the  building  and 
penetrated  every  crevice,  it  produced  the  same  effect 
on  the  beggar  and  Lovel. 

'Was  that  an  echo?'  said  the  Baronet,  astonished  at 
the  sternutation  which  resounded  from  above;  'or,' 
drawing  close  to  the  adept,  'can  it  be  the  spirit  you 
^  See  Note  5. 
280 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


talked  of,  ridiculing  our  attempt  upon  his  hidden  treas- 
ures?' 

— n — no/  muttered  the  German,  who  began  to 
partake  of  his  pupil's  terrors,     hope  not.' 

Here  a  violent  explosion  of  sneezing,  which  the  mendi- 
cant was  unable  to  suppress,  and  which  could  not  be 
considered  by  any  means  as  the  dying  fall  of  an  echo,  ac- 
companied by  a  grunting,  half-smothered  cough,  con- 
founded the  two  treasure-seekers.  ^Lord  have  mercy  on 
us!'  said  the  Baronet. 

^Alle  guten  Geistern,  lohen  den  Herrnr  ejaculated  the 
terrijfied  adept.  was  begun  to  think,'  he  continued, 
after  a  moment's  silence,  *that  this  would  be  de  bester- 
most  done  in  de  daylight;  we  was  bestermost  to  go  away 
just  now.' 

^You  juggling  villain,'  said  the  Baronet,  in  whom 
these  expressions  awakened  a  suspicion  that  overcame 
his  terrors,  connected  as  it  was  with  the  sense  of  despera- 
tion arising  from  the  apprehension  of  impending  ruin  — 
^you  juggling  mountebank,  this  is  some  legerdemain 
trick  of  yours  to  get  off  from  the  performance  of  your 
promise,  as  you  have  so  often  done  before.  But,  before 
Heaven,  I  will  this  night  know  what  I  have  trusted  to 
when  I  suffered  you  to  fool  me  on  to  my  ruin!  Go  on, 
then;  come  fairy,  come  fiend,  you  shall  show  me  that 
treasure,  or  confess  yourself  a  knave  and  an  impostor; 
or,  by  the  faith  of  a  desperate  and  ruined  man,  I  '11  send 
you  where  you  shall  see  spirits  enough.' 

The  treasure-finder,  trembling  between  his  terror  for 
the  supernatural  beings  by  whom  he  supposed  himself 
to  be  surrounded,  and  for  his  life,  which  seemed  to  be 
at  the  mercy  of  a  desperate  man,  could  only  bring  out, 

28l 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


*Mine  patron,  this  is  not  the  allerbestmost  usage.  Con- 
sider, mine  honoured  sir,  that  de  spirits  — ' 

Here  Edie,  who  began  to  enter  into  the  humour  of  the 
scene,  uttered  an  extraordinary  howl,  being  an  exalta- 
tion and  a  prolongation  of  the  most  deplorable  whine  in 
which  he  was  accustomed  to  solicit  charity.  Douster- 
swivel  flung  himself  on  his  knees,  ^Dear  Sir  Arthurs,  let 
us  go,  or  let  me  go!' 

*No,  you  cheating  scoundrel,'  said  the  knight,  un- 
sheathing the  sword  which  he  had  brought  for  the  pur- 
poses of  the  exorcism,  ^that  shift  shall  not  serve  you. 
Monkbarns  warned  me  long  since  of  your  juggling 
pranks;  I  will  see  this  treasure  before  you  leave  this 
place,  or  I  will  have  you  confess  yourself  an  impostor; 
or,  by  Heaven,  I'll  run  this  sword  through  you,  though 
all  the  spirits  of  the  dead  should  rise  around  us!' 

^For  de  lofe  of  Heaven  be  patient,  mine  honoured  pa- 
tron, and  you  shall  hafe  all  de  treasure  as  I  knows  of  — 
yes,  you  shall  indeed;  but  do  not  speak  about  de  spirits, 
it  makes  dem  angry.' 

Edie  Ochiltree  here  prepared  himself  to  throw  in  an- 
other groan,  but  was  restrained  by  Lovel,  who  began  to 
take  a  more  serious  interest  as  he  observed  the  earnest 
and  almost  desperate  demeanour  of  Sir  Arthur.  Dous- 
terswivel,  having  at  once  before  his  eyes  the  fear  of  the 
foul  fiend  and  the  violence  of  Sir  Arthur,  played  his  part 
of  a  conjurer  extremely  ill,  hesitating  to  assume  the  de- 
gree of  confidence  necessary  to  deceive  the  latter,  lest  it 
should  give  offence  to  the  invisible  cause  of  his  alarm. 
However,  after  rolling  his  eyes,  muttering  and  sputter- 
ing German  exorcisms,  with  contortions  of  his  face  and 
person,  rather  flowing  from  the  impulse  of  terror  than  of 

282 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


meditated  fraud,  he  at  length  proceeded  to  a  corner  of 
the  building  where  a  flat  stone  lay  upon  the  ground, 
bearing  upon  its  surface  the  effigy  of  an  armed  warrior 
in  a  recumbent  posture  carved  in  bas-relief.  He  mut- 
tered to  Sir  Arthur,  ^Mine  patrons,  it  is  here.  Got  save 
us  all!' 

Sir  Arthur,  who,  after  the  first  moment  of  his  super- 
stitious fear  was  over,  seemed  to  have  bent  up  all  his  fac- 
ulties to  the  pitch  of  resolution  necessary  to  carry  on  the 
adventure,  lent  the  adept  his  assistance  to  turn  over  the 
stone,  which,  by  means  of  a  lever  that  the  adept  had  pro- 
vided, their  joint  force  with  difiiculty  effected.  No  super- 
natural light  burst  forth  from  below  to  indicate  the 
subterranean  treasury,  nor  was  there  any  apparition 
of  spirits,  earthly  or  infernal.  But  when  Dousterswivel 
had,  with  great  trepidation,  struck  a  few  strokes  with  a 
mattock,  and  as  hastily  thrown  out  a  shovelful  or  two 
of  earth  (for  they  came  provided  with  the  tools  necessary 
for  digging),  something  was  heard  to  ring  like  the  sound 
of  a  falling  piece  of  metal,  and  Dousterswivel,  hastily 
catching  up  the  substance  which  produced  it,  and  which 
his  shovel  had  thrown  out  along  with  the  earth,  ex- 
claimed, 'On  mine  dear  wort,  mine  patrons,  dis  is  all,  it 
is  indeed;  I  mean  all  we  can  do  to-night/  and  he  gazed 
round  him  with  a  cowering  and  fearful  glance,  as  if  to 
see  from  what  corner  the  avenger  of  his  im^posture  was 
to  start  forth. 

'Let  me  see  it,'  said  Sir  Arthur;  and  then  repeated  still 
more  sternly, '  I  will  be  satisfied,  I  will  judge  by  mine  own 
eyes.'  He  accordingly  held  the  object  to  the  light  of  the 
lantern.  It  was  a  small  case  or  casket,  for  Lovel  could  not 
at  the  distance  exactly  discern  its  shape,  which,  from  the 

283 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


Baronet's  exclamation  as  he  opened  it,  he  concluded  W)  s 
filled  with  coin.  *Ay,'  said  the  Baronet,  Hhis  is  beij  g 
indeed  in  good  luck!  and  if  it  omens  proportional  succ^..^s 
upon  a  larger  venture,  the  venture  shall  be  made.  Tlat 
six  hundred  of  Goldieword's,  added  to  the  other  incum- 
bent claims,  must  have  been  ruin  indeed.  If  you  think 
we  can  parry  it  by  repeating  this  experiment  —  suppose 
when  the  moon  next  changes  —  I  will  hazard  the  neces- 
sary advance,  come  by  it  how  I  may.' 

'0,  mine  goot  patrons,  do  not  speak  about  all  dat,' 
said  Dousterswivel,  ^as  just  now,  but  help  me  to  put  de 
shtone  to  de  rights,  and  let  us  begone  our  own  ways.' 
And  accordingly,  so  soon  as  the  stone  was  replaced,  he 
hurried  Sir  Arthur,  who  was  now  resigned  once  more  to 
his  guidance,  away  from  a  spot  where  the  German's 
guilty  conscience  and  superstitious  fears  represented 
goblins  as  lurking  behind  each  pillar  with  the  purpose 
of  punishing  his  treachery. 

'Saw  ony  body  e'er  the  like  o'  that!'  said  Edie,  when 
they  had  disappeared  like  shadows  through  the  gate  by 
which  they  had  entered  —  'saw  ony  creature  hving  e'er 
the  like  o'  that!  But  what  can  we  do  for  that  puir  doited 
deevil  of  a  knight-baronet?  Od,  he  showed  muckle 
mair  spunk,  too,  than  I  thought  had  been  in  him.  I 
thought  he  wad  hae  sent  cauld  iron  through  the  vaga- 
bond. Sir  Arthur  wasna  half  sae  bauld  at  Bessie's  Apron 
yon  night;  but  then  his  blood  was  up  even  now,  and  that 
makes  an  unco  difference.  I  hae  seen  mony  a  man  wad 
hae  felled  another  an'  anger  him  that  wadna  muckle  hae 
liked  a  clink  against  Crummie's  Horn  yon  time?  But 
what 's  to  be  done?' 

'I  suppose/  said  Lovel,  'his  faith  in  this  fellow  is  en- 

284. 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


tirely  restored  by  this  deception,  which,  unquestionably, 
he  had  arranged  beforehand.' 

'What!  the  siller?  Ay,  ay,  trust  him  for  that:  they 
that  hide  ken  best  where  to  find.  He  wants  to  wile  him 
out  o'  his  last  guinea,  and  then  escape  to  his  ain  country, 
the  landlouper.  I  wad  likeit  weel  just  to  hae  come  in  at 
the  clipping-time  and  gien  him  a  lounder  wi'  my  pike- 
staff ;  he  wad  hae  taen  it  for  a  bennison  f rae  some  o'  the 
auld  dead  abbots.  But  it's  best  no  to  be  rash:  sticking 
disna  gang  by  strength,  but  by  the  guiding  o'  the  gully. 
I  'se  be  upsides  wi'  him  ae  day.' 

*  What  if  you  should  inform  Mr.  Oldbuck? '  said  Lovel. 

'Ou,  I  dinna  ken.  Monkbarns  and  Sir  Arthur  are  like, 
and  yet  they  're  no  like  neither.  Monkbarns  has  whiles 
influence  wi'  him,  and  whiles  Sir  Arthur  cares  as  little 
about  him  as  about  the  like  o'  me.  Monkbarns  is  no  that 
ower  wise  himsell  in  some  things;  he  wad  believe  a  bodle 
to  be  an  auld  Roman  coin,  as  he  ca's  it,  or  a  ditch  to  be  a 
camp,  upon  ony  leasing  that  idle  folk  made  about  it.  I 
hae  garr'd  him  trow  mony  a  queer  tale  mysell,  Gude  f or- 
gie  me.  But  wi'  a'  that  he  has  unco  little  sjonpathy  wi' 
ither  folks;  and  he's  snell  and  dure  eneugh  in  casting  up 
their  nonsense  to  them,  as  if  he  had  nane  o'  his  ain.  He  '11 
listen  the  hale  day,  an  ye '11  tell  him  about  tales  o*  Wal- 
lace and  Blind  Harry  and  Davie  Lindsay ;  but  ye  maunna 
speak  to  him  about  ghaists  or  fairies,  or  spirits  walking 
the  earth,  or  the  like  o'  that;  he  had  amaist  flung  auld 
Caxonout  o'  the  window —  and  he  might  just  as  weel 
hae  flung  awa  his  best  wig  after  him  —  for  threeping  he 
had  seen  a  ghaist  at  the  Humlock  Knowe.  Now,  if  he 
was  taking  it  up  in  this  way,  he  wad  set  up  the  tother's 
birse,  and  maybe  do  mair  ill  nor  gude;  he's  done  that 

285 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


twice  or  thrice  about  thae  mine-warks;  ye  wad  thought 
Sir  Arthur  had  a  pleasure  in  gaun  on  wi'  them  the  deeper, 
the  mair  he  was  warned  against  it  by  Monkbarns.' 

^What  say  you  then/  said  Lovel,  ^to  letting  Miss 
Wardour  know  the  circumstance?' 

^Ou,  puir  thing,  how  could  she  stop  her  father  doing 
his  pleasure?  And,  besides,  what  wad  it  help?  There 's 
a  sough  in  the  country  about  that  six  hundred  pounds, 
and  there's  a  writer  chield  in  Edinburgh  has  been  driv- 
ing the  spur-rowels  o'  the  law  up  to  the  head  into  Sir 
Arthur's  sides  to  gar  him  pay  it,  and  if  he  canna  he 
maun  gang  to  jail  or  flee  the  country.  He 's  like  a  desper- 
ate man,  and  just  catches  at  this  chance  as  a'  he  has  left 
to  escape  utter  perdition;  so  what  signifies  plaguing  the 
puir  lassie  about  what  canna  be  helped?  And  besides,  to 
say  the  truth,  I  wadna  hke  to  tell  the  secret  o'  this  place. 
It's  unco  convenient,  ye  see  yoursell,  to  hae  a  hiding- 
hole  o'  ane's  ain,  and  though  I  be  out  o'  the  line  o'  need- 
ing ane  e  'en  now,  and  trust  in  the  power  o'  grace  that 
I'll  ne'er  do  ony  thing  to  need  ane  again,  yet  naebody 
kens  what  temptation  ane  may  be  gien  ower  to;  and,  to 
be  brief,  I  downa  bide  the  thought  of  ony  body  kennin 
about  the  place.  They  say,  "Keep  a  thing  seven  year, 
an'  ye '11  aye  find  a  use  for 't";  and  maybe  I  may  need 
the  cove,  either  for  mysell  or  for  some  ither  body.' 

This  argument,  in  which  Edie  Ochiltree,  notwith- 
standing his  scraps  of  morality  and  of  divinity,  seemed 
to  take,  perhaps  from  old  habit,  a  personal  interest, 
could  not  be  handsomely  controverted  by  Lovel,  who 
was  at  that  moment  reaping  the  benefit  of  the  secret  of 
which  the  old  man  appeared  to  be  so  jealous. 

This  incident,  however,  was  of  great  service  to  Lovel, 
286 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

as  diverting  his  mind  from  the  unhappy  occurrence  of 
the  evening,  and  considerably  rousing  the  energies  which 
had  been  stupefied  by  the  first  view  of  his  calamity.  He 
reflected  that  it  by  no  means  necessarily  followed  that  a 
dangerous  wound  must  be  a  fatal  one;  that  he  had  been 
hurried  from  the  spot  even  before  the  surgeon  had  ex- 
pressed any  opinion  of  Captain  MTn tyre's  situation; 
and  that  he  had  duties  on  earth  to  perform,  even  should 
the  very  worst  be  true,  which,  if  they  could  not  restore 
his  peace  of  mind  or  sense  of  innocence,  would  furnish 
a  motive  for  enduring  existence,  and  at  the  same  time 
render  it  a  course  of  active  benevolence. 

Such  were  LoveFs  feelings  when  the  hour  arrived 
when,  according  to  Edie's  calculation,  who,  by  some 
train  or  process  of  his  own  in  observing  the  heavenly 
bodies,  stood  independent  of  the  assistance  of  a  watch 
or  timekeeper,  it  was  fitting  they  should  leave  their 
hiding-place  and  betake  themselves  to  the  sea-shore,  in 
order  to  meet  Lieutenant  TaffriFs  boat  according  to 
appointment. 

They  retreated  by  the  same  passage  which  had  ad- 
mitted them  to  the  prior's  secret  seat  of  observation,  and 
when  they  issued  from  the  grotto  into  the  wood,  the 
birds,  which  began  to  chirp,  and  even  to  sing,  announced 
that  the  dawn  was  advanced.  This  was  confirmed  by 
the  light  and  amber  clouds  that  appeared  over  the  sea 
as  soon  as  their  exit  from  the  copse  permitted  them  to 
view  the  horizon.  Morning,  said  to  be  friendly  to  the 
muses,  has  probably  obtained  this  character  from  its 
effect  upon  the  fancy  and  feelings  of  mankind.  Even  to 
those  who,  like  Lovel,  have  spent  a  sleepless  and  anxious 
night,  the  breeze  of  the  dawn  brings  strength  and  quick- 

287 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


ening  both  of  mind  and  body.  It  was  therefore  with 
renewed  health  and  vigour  that  Lovel,  guided  by  the 
trusty  mendicant,  brushed  away  the  dew  as  he  trav- 
ersed the  downs  which  divided  the  Den  of  St.  Ruth,  as 
the  woods  surrounding  the  ruins  were  popularly  called, 
from  the  sea-shore. 

The  first  level  beam  of  the  sun,  as  his  brilliant  disk  be- 
gan to  emerge  from  the  ocean,  shot  full  upon  the  little 
gun-brig  which  was  lying-to  in  the  offing.  Close  to  the 
shore  the  boat  was  already  waiting,  Taffril  himself,  with 
his  naval  cloak  wrapped  about  him,  seated  in  the  stern. 
He  jumped  ashore  when  he  saw  the  mendicant  and  Lovel 
approach,  and,  shaking  the  latter  heartily  by  the  hand, 
begged  him  not  to  be  cast  down.  ^MTn tyre's  wound,' 
he  said,  'was  doubtful,  but  far  from  desperate.'  His  at- 
tention had  got  LoveFs  baggage  privately  sent  on  board 
the  brig;  'and,'  he  said,  'he  trusted  that,  if  Lovel  chose 
to  stay  with  the  vessel,  the  penalty  of  a  short  cruise 
would  be  the  only  disagreeable  consequence  of  his  reft' 
contre.  As  for  himself,  his  time  and  motions  were  a  good 
deal  at  his  own  disposal,'  he  said,  'excepting  the  neces- 
sary obligation  of  remaining  on  his  station.' 

'We  will  talk  of  our  farther  motions,'  said  Lovel,  'as 
we  go  on  board.' 

Then  turning  to  Edie,  he  endeavoured  to  put  money 
into  his  hand.  '  I  think,'  said  Edie,  as  he  tendered  it  back 
again,  'the  hale  folk  here  have  either  gane  daft,  or  they 
hae  made  a  vow  to  ruin  my  trade,  as  they  say  ower 
muckle  water  drowns  the  miller.  I  hae  had  mair  gowd 
offered  me  within  this  twa  or  three  weeks  than  I  ever 
saw  in  my  life  afore.  Keep  the  siller,  lad,  ye '11  hae  need 
o't,  I  'se  warrant  ye,  and  I  hae  nane.  My  claes  is  nae 

288 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


great  things,  and  I  get  a  blue  gown  every  year,  and  as 
mony  siller  groats  as  the  king,  God  bless  him,  is  years 
auld  —  you  and  I  serve  the  same  master,  ye  ken, 
Captain  Taffril  —  there's  rigging  provided  for;  and  my 
meat  and  drink  I  get  for  the  asking  in  my  rounds,  or  at 
an  orra  time  I  can  gang  a  day  without  it,  for  I  make  it  a 
rule  never  to  pay  for  nane.  So  that  a'  the  siller  I  need  is 
just  to  buy  tobacco  and  sneeshin,  and  maybe  a  dram  at  a 
time  in  a  cauld  day,  though  I  am  nae  dram-drinker  to  be 
a  gaberlunzie.  Sae  take  back  your  gowd  and  just  gie  me 
a  lily-white  shilling/ 

Upon  these  whims,  which  he  imagined  intimately  con- 
nected with  the  honour  of  his  vagabond  profession,  Edie 
was  flint  and  adamant,  not  to  be  moved  by  rhetoric  or 
entreaty;  and  therefore  Lovel  was  under  the  necessity 
of  again  pocketing  his  intended  bounty,  and  taking  a 
friendly  leave  of  the  mendicant  by  shaking  him  by  the 
hand,  and  assuring  him  of  his  cordial  gratitude  for  the 
very  important  services  which  he  had  rendered  him, 
recommending  at  the  same  time  secrecy  as  to  what  they 
had  that  night  witnessed.  ^  Ye  needna  doubt  that,'  said 
Ochiltree;  ^  I  never  telFd  tales  out  o'  yon  cove  in  my  life, 
though  mony  a  queer  thing  I  hae  seen  in 't.' 

The  boat  now  put  off.  The  old  man  remained  looking 
after  it  as  it  made  rapidly  towards  the  brig  under  the 
impulse  of  six  stout  rowers,  and  Lovel  beheld  him  again 
wave  his  blue  bonnet  as  a  token  of  farewell  ere  he  turned 
from  his  fixed  posture  and  began  to  move  slowly  along 
the  sands  as  if  resuming  his  customary  perambulations. 

0 


CHAPTER  XXII 


Wiser  Raymond,  as  in  his  closet  pent, 
Laughs  at  such  danger  and  adventurement, 
When  half  his  lands  are  spent  in  golden  smoke. 
And  now  his  second  hopeful  glasse  is  broke; 
But  yet,  if  haply  his  third  furnace  hold, 
Devoteth  all  his  pots  and  pans  to  gold.* 

About  a  week  after  the  adventures  commemorated  in 
our  last  chapter,  Mr.  Oldbuck,  descending  to  his  break- 
fast-parlour, found  that  his  womankind  were  not  upon 
duty,  his  toast  not  made,  and  the  silver  jug  which  was 
wont  to  receive  his  libations  of  mum  not  duly  aired  for 
its  reception. 

'  This  confounded  hot-brained  boy,'  he  said  to  him- 
self, ^now  that  he  begins  to  get  out  of  danger,  I  can  tol- 
erate this  Ufe  no  longer.  All  goes  to  sixes  and  sevens; 
an  universal  saturnalia  seems  to  be  proclaimed  in  my 
peaceful  and  orderly  family.  I  ask  for  my  sister;  no  an- 
swer. I  call,  I  shout,  I  invoke  my  inmates  by  more  names 
than  the  Romans  gave  to  their  deities;  at  length  Jenny, 
whose  shrill  voice  I  have  heard  this  half  hour  lilting  in 
the  Tartarean  regions  of  the  kitchen,  condescends  to 
hear  me  and  reply,  but  without  coming  upstairs,  so  the 
conversation  must  be  continued  at  the  top  of  my  lungs.' 
Here  he  again  began  to  holloo  aloud,  ^  Jenny,  where 's 
Miss  Oldbuck?' 

^Miss  Grizzy 's  in  the  Captain's  room.' 

*Umph,  I  thought  so;  and  where 's  my  niece?' 

1  The  author  cannot  remember  where  these  lines  are  to  be  found; 
perhaps  in  Bishop  Hall's  Satires, 

290 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

'Miss  Mary's  making  the  Captain's  tea/ 

'  Umph,  I  supposed  as  much  again ;  and  where 's  Caxon?' 

'Awa  to  the  town  about  the  Captain's  fowling-gun 
and  his  setting-dog/ 

'And  who  the  devil's  to  dress  my  periwig,  you  silly 
jade?  When  you  knew  that  Miss  Wardour  and  Sir 
Arthur  were  coming  here  early  after  breakfast,  how 
could  you  let  Caxon  go  on  such  a  Tom  Fool's  errand? ' 

'Me!  what  could  I  hinder  him?  Your  honour  wadna 
hae  us  contradict  the  Captain  e'en  now,  and  him  maybe 
deeing?' 

'Dying!'  said  the  alarmed  Antiquary,  'eh!  what?  has 
he  been  worse? ' 

'Na,  he's  no  nae  waur  that  I  ken  of.' ^ 

'Then  he  must  be  better;  and  what  good  is  a  dog  and 
a  gun  to  do  here,  but  the  one  to  destroy  all  my  furni- 
ture, steal  from  my  larder,  and  perhaps  worry  the  cat, 
and  the  other  to  shoot  somebody  through  the  head;  he 
has  had  gunning  and  pistolling  enough  to  serve  him 
one  while,  I  should  think.' 

Here  Miss  Oldbuck  entered  the  parlour,  at  the  door 
of  which  Oldbuck  was  carrying  on  this  conversation,  he 
bellowing  downward  to  Jenny,  and  she  again  scream- 
ing upward  in  reply. 

'Dear  brother,'  said  the  old  lady,  'ye '11  cry  yoursell 
as  hoarse  as  a  corbie;  is  that  the  way  to  skreigh  when 
there's  a  sick  person  in  the  house?' 

'Upon  my  word,  the  sick  person 's  like  to  have  all  the 
house  to  himself.  I  have  gone  without  my  breakfast, 
and  am  like  to  go  without  my  wig;  and  I  must  not,  I 
suppose,  presume  to  say  I  feel  either  hunger  or  cold,  for 
1  See  Note  6. 
291 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


fear  of  disturbing  the  sick  gentleman  who  lies  six  rooms 
off,  and  who  feels  himself  well  enough  to  send  for  his 
dog  and  gun,  though  he  knows  I  detest  such  implements 
ever  since  our  elder  brother,  poor  Williewald,  marched 
out  of  the  world  on  a  pair  of  damp  feet  caught  in  the 
Kittlefitting  Moss.  But  that  signifies  nothing.  I  sup- 
pose I  shall  be  expected  by  and  by  to  lend  a  hand  to 
carry  Squire  Hector  out  upon  his  litter,  while  he  indulges 
his  sportsman-like  propensities  by  shooting  my  pigeons 
or  my  turkeys.  I  think  any  of  the  fer(B  naiurce  are  safe 
from  him  for  one  while.' 

Miss  M  'Intyre  now  entered,  and  began  to  her  usual 
morning's  task  of  arranging  her  uncle's  breakfast  with 
the  alertness  of  one  who  is  too  late  in  setting  about  a 
task,  and  is  anxious  to  make  up  for  lost  time.  But  this 
did  not  avail  her.  ^Take  care,  you  silly  womankind, 
that  mum 's  too  near  the  fire,  the  bottle  will  burst;  and 
I  suppose  you  intend  to  reduce  the  toast  to  a  cinder  as  a 
burnt-offering  for  Juno,  or  what  do  you  call  her  —  the 
female  dog  there,  with  some  such  Pantheon  kind  of  a 
name,  that  your  wise  brother  has,  in  his  first  moments 
of  mature  reflection,  ordered  up  as  a  fitting  inmate  of 
my  house  —  I  thank  him  —  and  meet  company  to  aid 
the  rest  of  the  womankind  of  my  household  in  their 
daily  conversation  and  intercourse  with  him.' 

^Dear  uncle,  don't  be  angry  about  the  poor  spaniel. 
She 's  been  tied  up  at  my  brother's  lodgings  at  Fairport, 
and  she 's  broke  her  chain  twice,  and  come  running  down 
here  to  him;  and  you  would  not  have  us  beat  the  faith- 
ful beast  away  from  the  door;  it  moans  as  if  it  had  some 
sense  of  poor  Hector's  misfortune,  and  will  hardly  stir 
from  the  door  of  his  room.' 

292 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


'Why/  said  his  uncle,  'they  said  Caxon  had  gone  to 
Fairport  after  his  dog  and  gun.' 

dear  sir,  no,'  answered  Miss  M'Intyre,  'it  was  to 
fetch  some  dressings  that  were  wanted,  and  Hector 
only  wished  him  to  bring  out  his  gun,  as  he  was  going 
to  Fairport  at  any  rate.' 

'Well,  then,  it  is  not  altogether  so  foolish  a  business, 
considering  what  a  mess  of  womankind  have  been  about 
it.  Dressings,  quotha!  and  who  is  to  dress  my  wig? 
But  I  suppose  Jenny  will  undertake,'  continued  the  old 
bachelor,  looking  at  himself  in  the  glass,  '  to  make  it 
somewhat  decent.  And  now  let  us  set  to  breakfast, 
with  what  appetite  we  may.  Well  may  I  say  to  Hector, 
as  Sir  Isaac  Newton  did  to  his  dog  Diamond,  when  the 
animal  —  I  detest  dogs  —  flung  down  the  taper  among 
calculations  which  had  occupied  the  philosopher  for 
twenty  years,  and  consumed  the  whole  mass  of  materials 
—  "Diamond,  Diamond,  thou  little  knowest  the  mis- 
chief thou  hast  done!"' 

'I  assure  you,  sir,'  replied  his  niece,  'my  brother  is 
quite  sensible  of  the  rashness  of  his  own  behaviour,  and 
allows  that  Mr.  Lovel  behaved  very  handsomely.' 

'And  much  good  that  will  do,  when  he  has  frightened 
the  lad  out  of  the  country!  I  tell  thee,  Mary,  Hector's 
understanding,  and  far  more  that  of  feminity,  is  inade- 
quate to  comprehend  the  extent  of  the  loss  which  he  has 
occasioned  to  the  present  age  and  to  posterity  —  au- 
reum  quidem  opus  —  a  poem  on  such  a  subject,  with 
notes  illustrative  of  all  that  is  clear,  and  all  that  is  dark, 
and  all  that  is  neither  dark  nor  clear,  but  hovers  in 
dusky  twilight  in  the  region  of  Caledonian  antiquities. 
I  would  have  made  the  Celtic  panegyrists  look  about 

293 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


them.  Fingal,  as  they  conceitedly  term  Fin  Mac-Coul, 
should  have  disappeared  before  my  search,  rolling  him- 
self in  his  cloud  like  the  spirit  of  Loda.  Such  an  oppor- 
tunity can  hardly  again  occur  to  an  ancient  and  grey- 
haired  man;  and  to  see  it  lost  by  the  madcap  spleen  of  a 
hot-headed  boy!  But  I  submit,  Heaven's  will  be  done! ' 

Thus  continued  the  Antiquary  to  'maunder,'  as  his 
sister  expressed  it,  during  the  whole  time  of  breakfast, 
while,  despite  of  sugar  and  honey  and  all  the  comforts 
of  a  Scottish  morning  tea-table,  his  reflections  rendered 
the  meal  bitter  to  all  who  heard  them.  But  they  knew 
the  nature  of  the  man.  'Monkbarns's  bark,'  said  Miss 
Griselda  Oldbuck  in  confidential  intercourse  with  Miss 
Rebecca  Blattergowl,  'is  muckle  waur  than  his  bite.' 

In  fact,  Mr.  Oldbuck  had  suffered  in  mind  extremely 
while  his  nephew  was  in  actual  danger,  and  now  felt  him- 
self at  liberty,  upon  his  returning  health,  to  indulge  in 
complaints  respecting  the  trouble  he  had  been  put  to 
and  the  interruption  of  his  antiquarian  labours.  Lis- 
tened to,  therefore,  in  respectful  silence  b}^  his  niece  and 
sister,  he  unloaded  his  discontent  in  such  grumblings 
as  we  have  rehearsed,  venting  many  a  sarcasm  against 
womankind,  soldiers,  dogs,  and  guns,  all  which  imple- 
ments of  noise,  discord,  and  tumult,  as  he  called  them, 
he  professed  to  hold  in  utter  abomination. 

This  expectoration  of  spleen  was  suddenly  interrupted 
by  the  noise  of  a  carriage  without,  when,  shaking  off  all 
suUenness  at  the  sound,  Oldbuck  ran  nimbly  upstairs 
and  downstairs,  for  both  operations  were  necessary  ere 
he  could  receive  Miss  Wardour  and  her  father  at  the 
door  of  his  mansion. 

A  cordial  greeting  passed  on  both  sides.  And  Sir 
294 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

Arthur,  referring  to  his  previous  inquiries  by  letter  and 
message,  requested  to  be  particularly  informed  of  Cap- 
tain MTntyre's  health. 

'Better  than  he  deserves,'  was  the  answer  —  'better 
than  he  deserves,  for  disturbing  us  with  his  vixen  brawls, 
and  breaking  God's  peace  and  the  king's.' 

'The  young  gentleman,'  Sir  Arthur  said,  'had  been 
imprudent;  but  he  understood  they  were  indebted  to  him 
for  the  detection  of  a  suspicious  character  in  the  young 
man  Lovel.' 

'No  more  suspicious  than  his  own,'  answered  the  An- 
tiquary, eager  in  his  favourite's  defence;  'the  young  gen- 
tleman was  a  little  foolish  and  headstrong,  and  refused 
to  answer  Hector's  impertinent  interrogatories  —  that 
is  all.  Lovel,  Sir  Arthur,  knows  how  to  choose  his  con- 
fidants better;  ay,  Miss  Wardour,  you  may  look  at  me, 
but  it  is  very  true:  it  was  in  my  bosom  that  he  deposited 
the  secret  cause  of  his  residence  at  Fairport,  and  no 
stone  should  have  been  left  unturned  on  my  part  to 
assist  him  in  the  pursuit  to  which  he  had  dedicated 
himself.' 

On  hearing  this  magnanimous  declaration  on  the  part 
of  the  old  Antiquary,  Miss  Wardour  changed  colour 
more  than  once,  and  could  hardly  trust  her  own  ears. 
For  of  all  confidants  to  be  selected  as  the  depositary  of 
love  affairs — and  such  she  naturally  supposed  must  have 
been  the  subject  of  communication — next  to  Edie  Ochil- 
tree, Oldbuck  seemed  the  most  uncouth  and  extraor- 
dinary; nor  could  she  sufficiently  admire  or  fret  at  the 
extraordinary  combination  of  circumstances  which  thus 
threw  a  secret  of  such  a  dehcate  nature  into  the  posses- 
sion of  persons  so  unfitted  to  be  entrusted  with  it.  She 

29s 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


had  next  to  fear  the  mode  of  Oldbuck's  entering  upon 
the  affair  with  her  father,  for  such,  she  doubted  not, 
was  his  intention.  She  well  knew  that  the  honest  gentle- 
man, however  vehement  in  his  prejudices,  had  no  great 
sympathy  with  those  of  others,  and  she  had  to  fear  a 
most  unpleasant  explosion  upon  an  eclaircissement  tak- 
ing place  between  them.  It  was  therefore  with  great 
anxiety  that  she  heard  her  father  request  a  private 
interview,  and  observed  Oldbuck  readily  arise  and  show 
the  way  to  his  library.  She  remained  behind,  attempt- 
ing to  converse  with  the  ladies  of  Monkbarns,  but  with 
the  distracted  feelings  of  Macbeth,  when  compelled  to 
disguise  his  evil  conscience  by  listening  and  replying  to 
the  observations  of  the  attendant  thanes  upon  the 
storm  of  the  preceding  night,  while  his  whole  soul  is 
upon  the  stretch  to  listen  for  the  alarm  of  murder,  which 
he  knows  must  be  instantly  raised  by  those  who  have 
entered  the  sleeping  apartment  of  Duncan.  But  the  con- 
versation of  the  two  virtuosi  turned  on  a  subject  very 
different  from  that  which  Miss  Wardour  apprehended. 

'Mr.  Oldbuck,'  said  Sir  Arthur,  when  they  had,  after 
a  due  exchange  of  ceremonies,  fairly  seated  themselves 
in  the  sanctum  sanctorum  of  the  Antiquary,  'you,  who 
know  so  much  of  my  family  matters,  may  probably  be 
surprised  at  the  question  I  am  about  to  put  to  you.' 

'Why,  Sir  Arthur,  if  it  relates  to  money,  I  am  very 
sorry,  but — ' 

'It  does  relate  to  money  matters,  Mr.  Oldbuck.' 

'Really  then,  Sir  Arthur,'  continued  the  Antiquary, 
'in  the  present  state  of  the  money-market,  and  stocks 
being  so  low  — ' 

'You  mistake  my  meaning,  Mr.  Oldbuck,'  said  the 
296 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


Baronet;  wished  to  ask  your  advice  about  laying  out 
a  large  sum  of  money  to  advantage.' 

'The  devil!'  exclaimed  the  Antiquary;  and,  sensible 
that  his  involuntary  ejaculation  of  wonder  was  not  over 
and  above  civil,  he  proceeded  to  quahfy  it  by  expressing 
his  joy  that  Sir  Arthur  should  have  a  sum  of  money  to 
lay  out  when  the  commodity  was  so  scarce.  'And  as 
for  the  mode  of  employing  it,'  said  he,  pausing,  'the 
funds  are  low  at  present,  as  I  said  before,  and  there  are 
good  bargains  of  land  to  be  had.  But  had  you  not  bet- 
ter begin  by  clearing  off  encumbrances,  Sir  Arthur? 
There  is  the  sum  in  the  personal  bond,  and  the  three 
notes  of  hand,'  continued  he,  taking  out  of  the  right- 
hand  drawer  of  his  cabinet  a  certain  red  memorandum- 
book,  of  which  Sir  Arthur,  from  the  experience  of  former 
frequent  appeals  to  it,  abhorred  the  very  sight,  'with 
the  interest  thereon,  amounting  altogether  to  —  let  me 
see  — ' 

'To  about  a  thousand  pounds,'  said  Sir  Arthur,  has- 
tily; 'you  told  me  the  amount  the  other  day.' 

'But  there's  another  term's  interest  due  since  that, 
Sir  Arthur,  and  it  amounts  —  errors  excepted  —  to 
eleven  hundred  and  thirteen  pounds,  seven  shillings, 
five  pennies,  and  three-fourths  of  a  penny  sterling;  but 
look  over  the  summation  yourself.' 

'I  daresay  you  are  quite  right,  my  dear  sir,'  said  the 
Baronet,  putting  away  the  book  with  his  hand,  as  one 
rejects  the  old-fashioned  civility  that  presses  food  upon 
you  after  you  have  eaten  till  you  nauseate  —  'perfectly 
right,  I  daresay,  and  in  the  course  of  three  days  or  less 
you  shall  have  the  full  value;  that  is,  if  you  choose  to 
accept  it  in  bullion.' 

297 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


'Bullion!  I  suppose  you  mean  lead.  What  the  deuce! 
have  we  hit  on  the  vein  then  at  last?  But  what  could  I 
do  with  a  thousand  pounds  worth,  and  upwards,  of  lead? 
The  former  abbots  of  Trotcosey  might  have  roofed  their 
church  and  monastery  with  it  indeed,  but  for  me  — ' 

^By  bullion,'  said  the  Baronet,  mean  the  precious 
metals  —  gold  and  silver.' 

*  Ay !  indeed?  And  from  what  Eldorado  is  this  treasure 
to  be  imported? ' 

'Not  far  from  hence,'  said  Sir  Arthur,  significantly; 
'and  now  I  think  of  it,  you  shall  see  the  whole  process 
on  one  small  condition.' 

'And  what  is  that?'  craved  the  Antiquary, 

'Why,  it  will  be  necessary  for  you  to  give  me  your 
friendly  assistance  by  advancing  one  hundred  pounds 
or  thereabouts.' 

Mr.  Oldbuck,  who  had  already  been  grasping  in  idea 
the  sum,  principal  and  interest,  of  a  debt  which  he 
had  long  regarded  as  well-nigh  desperate,  was  so  much 
astounded  at  the  tables  being  so  unexpectedly  turned 
upon  him,  that  he  could  only  reecho  in  an  accent  of  woe 
and  surprise  the  words,  'Advance  one  hundred  pounds!' 

'Yes,  my  good  sir,'  continued  Sir  Arthur;  'but  upon 
the  best  possible  security  of  being  repaid  in  the  course 
of  two  or  three  days.' 

There  was  a  pause:  either  Oldbuck's  nether-jaw  had 
not  recovered  its  position,  so  as  to  enable  him  to  utter  a 
negative,  or  his  curiosity  kept  him  silent. 

'I  would  not  propose  to  you,'  continued  Sir  Arthur, 
'to  oblige  me  thus  far,  if  I  did  not  possess  actual  proofs 
of  the  reality  of  those  expectations  which  I  now  hold 
out  to  you.  And  I  assure  you,  Mr.  Oldbuck,  that,  in 

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entering  fully  upon  this  topic,  it  is  my  purpose  to  show 
my  confidence  in  you,  and  my  sense  of  your  kindness  on 
many  former  occasions.' 

Mr.  Oldbuck  professed  his  sense  of  obligation,  but 
carefully  avoided  committing  himself  by  any  promise 
of  farther  assistance. 

^Mr.  Dousterswivel,'  said  Sir  Arthur,  ^having  dis- 
covered— ' 

Here  Oldbuck  broke  in,  his  eyes  sparkling  with  indig- 
nation: ^Sir  Arthur,  I  have  so  often  warned  you  of  the 
knavery  of  that  rascally  quack,  that  I  really  wonder  you 
should  quote  him  to  me.' 

'But  listen  —  listen,'  interrupted  Sir  Arthur  in  his 
turn,  'it  will  do  you  no  harm.  In  short,  Dousterswivel 
persuaded  me  to  witness  an  experiment  which  he  had 
made  in  the  ruins  of  St.  Ruth,  and  what  do  you  think 
we  found?' 

'Another  spring  of  water,  I  suppose,  of  which  the 
rogue  had  beforehand  taken  care  to  ascertain  the  situa- 
tion and  source.' 

'No,  indeed  —  a  casket  of  gold  and  silver  coins;  here 
they  are.' 

With  that  Sir  Arthur  drew  from  his  pocket  a  large 
ram's-horn,  with  a  copper  cover,  containing  a  consider- 
able quantity  of  coins,  chiefly  silver,  but  with  a  few 
gold  pieces  intermixed.  The  Antiquary's  eyes  glistened 
as  he  eagerly  spread  them  out  on  the  table. 

^  Upon  my  word,  Scotch,  English,  and  foreign  coins,  of 
the  fifteenth  and  sixteenth  centuries,  and  some  of  them 
rari,  et  rariores,  etiam  rarissimil  Here  is  the  bonnet- 
piece  of  James  V,  the  unicorn  of  James  II,  ay,  and  the 
gold  testoon  of  Queen  Mary,  with  her  head  and  the 

299 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


Dauphin's.  And  these  were  really  found  in  the  ruins  of 
St.  Ruth?' 

'Most  assuredly;  my  own  eyes  witnessed  it.' 

'Well,'  replied  Oldbuck,  'but  you  must  tell  me  the 
when,  the  where,  the  how.' 

'The  when,'  answered  Sir  Arthur,  'was  at  midnight 
the  last  full  moon;  the  where,  as  I  have  told  you,  in  the 
ruins  of  St.  Ruth's  priory;  the  how,  was  by  a  nocturnal 
experiment  of  Dousterswivel,  accompanied  only  by  my- 
self.' 

'Indeed!'  said  Oldbuck,  'and  what  means  of  discov- 
ery did  you  employ? ' 

'Only  a  simple  suffumigation,'  said  the  Baronet,  'ac- 
companied by  availing  ourselves  of  the  suitable  planet- 
ary hour.' 

'Simple  suffumigation!  simple  nonsensification;  plan- 
etary hour!  planetary  fiddlestick.  Sapiens  dominahitur 
astris.  My  dear  Sir  Arthur,  that  fellow  has  made  a  gull 
of  you  above  ground  and  under  ground,  and  he  would 
have  made  a  gull  of  you  in  the  air  too,  if  he  had  been  by 
when  you  was  craned  up  the  devil's  turnpike  yonder  at 
Halket  Head;  to  be  sure,  the  transformation  would  have 
been  then  peculiarly  apropos,^ 

'Well,  Mr.  Oldbuck,  I  am  obliged  to  you  for  your  in- 
different opinion  of  my  discernment;  but  I  think  you 
will  give  me  credit  for  having  seen  what  I  say  I  saw.' 

'Certainly,  Sir  Arthur,'  said  the  Antiquary,  'to  this 
extent  at  least,  that  I  know  Sir  Arthur  Wardour  will 
not  say  he  saw  anything  but  what  he  thought  he  saw.' 

'Well  then,'  replied  the  Baronet,  'as  there  is  a  heaven 
above  us,  Mr.  Oldbuck,  I  saw  with  my  own  eyes  these 
coins  dug  out  of  the  chancel  of  St.  Ruth  at  midnight. 

300 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

And  as  to  Dousterswivel,  although  the  discovery  be 
owing  to  his  science,  yet,  to  tell  the  truth,  I  do  not  think 
he  would  have  had  firmness  of  mind  to  have  gone 
through  with  it  if  I  had  not  been  beside  him.' 

'Ay!  indeed?'  said  Oldbuck,  in  the  tone  used  when 
one  wishes  to  hear  the  end  of  a  story  before  making  any 
comment. 

'Yes,  truly,'  continued  Sir  Arthur,  assure  you  I 
was  upon  my  guard;  we  did  hear  some  very  uncommon 
sounds,  that  is  certain,  proceeding  from  among  the  ruins.' 

'Oh,  you  did?'  said  Oldbuck.  'An  accomplice  hid 
among  them,  I  suppose?' 

'Not  a  jot,'  said  the  Baronet.  'The  sounds,  though 
of  a  hideous  and  preternatural  character,  rather  resem- 
bled those  of  a  man  who  sneezes  violently  than  any 
other;  one  deep  groan  I  certainly  heard  besides;  and 
Dousterswivel  assures  me  that  he  beheld  the  spirit 
Peolphan,  the  Great  Hunter  of  the  North  —  look  for 
him  in  your  Nicolaus  Remigius  or  Petrus  Thyraeus, 
Mr.  Oldbuck  —  who  mimicked  the  motion  of  snuff- 
taking  and  its  effects.' 

'These  indications,  however  singular  as  proceeding 
from  such  a  personage,  seem  to  have  been  apropos  to 
the  matter,'  said  the  Antiquary;  'for  you  see  the  case 
which  includes  these  coins  has  all  the  appearance  of  be- 
ing an  old-fashioned  Scottish  snuff-mill.  But  you  per- 
severed in  spite  of  the  terrors  of  this  sneezing  goblin? ' 

'Why,  I  think  it  probable  that  a  man  of  inferior 
sense  or  consequence  might  have  given  way;  but  I  was 
jealous  of  an  imposture,  conscious  of  the  duty  I  owed  to 
my  family  in  maintaining  my  courage  under  every  con- 
tingency, and  therefore  I  compelled  Dousterswivel,  by 

301 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


actual  and  violent  threats,  to  proceed  with  what  he 
was  about  to  do;  and,  sir,  the  proof  of  his  skill  and 
honesty  is  this  parcel  of  gold  and  silver  pieces,  out  of 
which  I  beg  you  to  select  such  coins  or  medals  as  will 
best  suit  your  collection.' 

^Why,  Sir  Arthur,  since  you  are  so  good,  and  on 
condition  you  will  permit  me  to  mark  the  value,  accord- 
ing to  Pinkerton's  catalogue  and  appreciation,  against 
your  account  in  my  red  book,  I  will  with  pleasure 
select — ' 

^Nay,'  said  Sir  Arthur  Wardour,  do  not  mean  you 
should  consider  them  as  anything  but  a  gift  of  friend- 
ship, and  least  of  all  would  I  stand  by  the  valuation  of 
your  friend  Pinkerton,  who  has  impugned  the  ancient 
and  trustworthy  authorities  upon  which,  as  upon  ven- 
erable and  moss-grown  pillars,  the  credit  of  Scottish 
antiquities  reposed.' 

*Ay,  ay,'  rejoined  Oldbuck,  ^you  mean,  I  suppose, 
Mair  and  Boece,  the  Jachin  and  Boaz,  not  of  history 
but  of  falsification  and  forgery.  And,  notwithstanding 
all  you  have  told  me,  I  look  on  your  friend  Douster- 
swivel  to  be  as  apocryphal  as  any  of  them.' 

'Why,  then,  Mr.  Oldbuck,'  said  Sir  Arthur,  'not  to 
awaken  old  disputes,  I  suppose  you  think  that,  because 
I  believe  in  the  ancient  history  of  my  country,  I  have 
neither  eyes  nor  ears  to  ascertain  what  modern  events 
pass  before  me? ' 

^Pardon  me.  Sir  Arthur,'  rejoined  the  Antiquary, 
'but  I  consider  all  the  affectation  of  terror  which  this 
worthy  gentleman,  your  coadjutor,  chose  to  play  off  as 
being  merely  one  part  of  his  trick  or  mystery.  And, 
with  respect  to  the  gold  or  silver  coins,  they  are  so  mixed 

302 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

and  mingled  in  country  and  date  that  I  cannot  suppose 
they  could  be  any  genuine  hoard,  and  rather  suppose 
them  to  be,  like  the  purses  upon  the  table  of  Hudibras's 
lawyer  — 

Money  placed  for  show, 
Like  nest-eggs,  to  make  clients  lay. 
And  for  his  false  opinions  pay. 

It  is  the  trick  of  all  professions,  my  dear  Sir  Arthur. 
Pray,  may  I  ask  you  how  much  this.discovery  cost  you?' 
^  About  ten  guineas.' 

'And  you  have  gained  what  is  equivalent  to  twenty 
in  actual  bullion,  and  what  may  be  perhaps  worth  as 
much  more  to  such  fools  as  ourselves,  who  are  willing 
to  pay  for  curiosity.  This  was  allowing  you  a  tempting 
profit  on  the  first  hazard,  I  must  needs  admit.  And  what 
is  the  next  venture  he  proposes? ' 

'An  hundred  and  fifty  pounds;  I  have  given  him  one- 
third  part  of  the  money,  and  I  thought  it  likely  you 
might  assist  me  with  the  balance.' 

'I  should  think  that  this  cannot  be  meant  as  a  part- 
ing blow,  it  is  not  of  weight  and  importance  sufficient; 
he  will  probably  let  us  win  this  hand  also,  as  sharpers 
manage  a  raw  gamester.  Sir  Arthur,  I  hope  you  believe 
I  would  serve  you? ' 

'Certainly,  Mr.  Oldbuck;  I  think  my  confidence  in 
you  on  these  occasions  leaves  no  room  to  doubt  that.' 

'Well,  then,  allow  me  to  speak  to  Dousterswivel.  If 
the  money  can  be  advanced  usefully  and  advantage- 
ously for  you,  why,  for  old  neighbourhood's  sake,  you 
shall  not  want  it;  but  if,  as^I  think,  I  can  recover  the 
treasure  for  you  without  making  such  an  advance,  you 
will,  I  presume,  have  no  objection? ' 

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WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


^Unquestionably,  I  can  have  none  whatsoever/ 
^Then  where  is  Dousterswivel?'  continued  the  Anti- 
quary. 

^To  tell  you  the  truth,  he  is  in  my  carriage  below;  but 
knowing  your  prejudice  against  him  — ' 

thank  Heaven,  I  am  not  prejudiced  against  any 
man,  Sir  Arthur:  it  is  systems  not  individuals  that 
incur  my  reprobation,'  He  rang  the  bell.  *  Jenny,  Sir 
Arthur  and  I  offer  our  compliments  to  Mr.  Douster- 
swivel,  the  gentleman  in  Sir  Arthur's  carriage,  and  beg 
to  have  the  pleasure  of  speaking  with  him  here.' 

Jenny  departed  and  delivered  her  message.  It  had 
been  by  no  means  a  part  of  the  project  of  Dousterswivel 
to  let  Mr.  Oldbuck  into  his  supposed  mystery.  He  had 
relied  upon  Sir  Arthur's  obtaining  the  necessary  accom- 
modation without  any  discussion  as  to  the  nature  of  the 
application,  and  only  waited  below  for  the  purpose  of 
possessing  himself  of  the  deposit  as  soon  as  possible,  for 
he  foresaw  that  his  career  was  drawing  to  a  close.  But 
when  summoned  to  the  presence  of  Sir  Arthur  and 
Mr.  Oldbuck,  he  resolved  gallantly  to  put  confidence  in 
his  powers  of  impudence,  of  which,  the  reader  may  have 
observed,  his  natural  share  was  very  liberal. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 


And  this  doctor, 
Your  sooty  smoky-bearded  compeer,  he 
Will  close  you  so  much  gold  in  a  bolt's  head, 
And,  on  a  turn,  convey  in  the  stead  another 
With  sublimed  mercury,  that  shall  burst  i*  the  heat, 
And  all  fly  out  in  fumo. 

The  Alchemist. 

*How  do  you  do,  goot  Mr.  Oldenbuck?  and  I  do 
hope  your  young  gentleman,  Captain  M'Intyre,  is  get- 
ting better  again?  Ach!  it  is  a  bat  business  when 
young  gentlemens  will  put  lead  balls  into  each  other's 
body,' 

'Lead  adventures  of  all  kinds  are  very  precarious, 
Mr.  Dousterswivel;  but  I  am  happy  to  learn,'  con- 
tinued the  Antiquary,  'from  my  friend  Sir  Arthur  that 
you  have  taken  up  a  better  trade,  and  become  a  discov- 
erer of  gold.' 

'Ach,  Mr.  Oldenbuck,  mine  goot  and  honoured  pa- 
tron should  not  have  told  a  word  about  dat  little  mat- 
ter; for,  though  I  have  all  reliance  —  yes,  indeed  —  on 
goot  Mr.  Oldenbuck's  prudence  and  discretion,  and 
his  great  friendship  for  Sir  Arthur  Wardour,  yet,  my 
Heavens!  it  is  an  great  ponderous  secret.' 

'More  ponderous  than  any  of  the  metal  we  shall 
make  by  it,  I  fear,'  answered  Oldbuck. 

'Dat  is  just  as  you  shall  have  de  faith  and  de  pa- 
tience for  de  grand  experiment.  If  you  join  wid  Sir 
Arthur,  as  he  is  put  one  hundred  and  fifty  —  see,  here 
is  one  fifty  in  your  dirty  Fairport  bank-note  —  you  put 

«  305 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


one  other  hundred  and  fifty  in  de  dirty  notes,  and  you 
shall  have  de  pure  gold  and  silver,  I  cannot  tell  how 
much.' 

*Nor  any  one  for  you,  I  believe,'  said  the  Antiquary. 
*But  hark  you,  Mr.  Dousterswivel;  suppose,  without 
troubling  this  same  sneezing  spirit  with  any  farther 
fumigations,  we  should  go  in  a  body,  and,  having  fair 
daylight  and  our  good  consciences  to  befriend  us,  using 
no  other  conjuring  implements  than  good  substantial 
pickaxes  and  shovels,  fairly  trench  the  area  of  the  chan- 
cel in  the  ruins  of  St.  Ruth  from  one  end  to  the  other, 
and  so  ascertain  the  existence  of  this  supposed  treasure, 
without  putting  ourselves  to  any  farther  expense.  The 
ruins  belong  to  Sir  Arthur  himself,  so  there  can  be  no 
objection.  Do  you  think  we  shall  succeed  in  this  way 
of  managing  the  matter? ' 

^Bah!  you  will  not  find  one  copper  thimble.  But  Sir 
Arthur  will  do  his  pleasure.  I  have  showed  him  how  it 
is  possible,  very  possible,  to  have  de  great  sum  of  money 
for  his  occasions;  I  have  showed  him  de  real  experiment. 
If  he  likes  not  to  believe,  goot  Mr.  Oldenbuck,  it  is  no- 
thing to  Herman  Dousterswivel;  he  only  loses  de  money 
and  de  gold  and  de  silvers,  dat  is  all.' 

Sir  Arthur  Wardour  cast  an  intimidated  glance  at 
Oldbuck,  who,  especially  when  present,  held,  notwith- 
standing their  frequent  diflference  of  opinion,  no  or- 
dinary influence  over  his  sentiments.  In  truth,  the 
Baronet  felt,  what  he  would  not  willingly  have  ac- 
knowledged, that  his  genius  stood  rebuked  before  that 
of  the  Antiquary.  He  respected  him  as  a  shrewd,  pene- 
trating, sarcastic  character,  feared  his  satire,  and  had 
some  confidence  in  the  general  soundness  of  his  opin- 

306 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

ions.  He  therefore  looked  at  him  as  if  desiring  his  leave 
before  indulging  his  credulity.  Dousterswivel  saw  he 
was  in  danger  of  losing  his  dupe,  unless  he  could  make 
some  favourable  impression  on  the  adviser. 

know,  my  goot  Mr.  Oldenbuck,  it  is  one  vanity  to 
speak  to  you  about  de  spirit  and  de  goblin.  But  look  at 
this  curious  horn;  I  know  you  know  de  curiosity  of  all 
de  countries,  and  how  de  great  Oldenburgh  horn,  as 
they  keep  still  in  the  museum  at  Copenhagen,  was  given 
to  de  Duke  of  Oldenburgh  by  one  female  spirit  of  de 
wood.  Now  I  could  not  put  one  trick  on  you  if  I  were 
willing,  you  who  know  all  de  curiosity  so  well,  and  dere 
it  is,  de  horn  full  of  coins ;  if  it  had  been  a  box  or  case 
I  would  have  said  nothing.' 

*  Being  a  horn,'  said  Oldbuck,  Moes  indeed  strengthen 
your  argument.  It  was  an  implement  of  nature's  fash- 
ioning, and  therefore  much  used  among  rude  nations, 
although  it  may  be  the  metaphorical  horn  is  more 
frequent  in  proportion  to  the  progress  of  civilisation. 
And  this  present  horn,'  he  continued,  rubbing  it  upon 
his  sleeve,  Ms  a  curious  and  venerable  relic,  and  no 
doubt  was  intended  to  prove  a  cornucopia,  or  horn  of 
plenty,  to  some  one  or  other;  but  whether  to  the  adept 
or  his  patron  may  be  justly  doubted.' 

*Well,  Mr.  Oldenbuck,  I  find  you  still  hard  of  belief; 
but  let  me  assure  you  de  monksh  understood  de  magis- 
terium.^ 

^Let  us  leave  talking  of  the  magisterium,  Mr.  Dous- 
terswivel, and  think  a  little  about  the  magistrate.  Are 
you  aware  that  this  occupation  of  yours  is  against  the 
law  of  Scotland,  and  that  both  Sir  Arthur  and  myself 
are  in  the  commission  of  the  peace?' 

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WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


*Mine  Heaven!  and  what  is  dat  to  de  purpose  when 
I  am  doing  you  all  de  goot  I  can?' 

^Why,  you  must  know,  that  when  the  legislature 
abolished  the  cruel  laws  against  witchcraft,  they  had 
no  hope  of  destroying  the  superstitious  feelings  of  hu- 
manity on  which  such  chimeras  had  been  founded,  and 
to  prevent  those  feelings  from  being  tampered  with 
by  artful  and  designing  persons,  it  is  enacted  by  the 
Ninth  of  George  the  Second,  chap.  5,  that  whosoever 
shall  pretend,  by  his  alleged  skill  in  any  occult  or  crafty 
science,  to  discover  such  goods  as  are  lost,  stolen,  or 
concealed,  he  shall  suffer  punishment  by  pillory  and 
imprisonment,  as  a  common  cheat  and  impostor/ 

^And  is  dat  de  laws?'  asked  Dousterswivel,  with 
some  agitation. 

'Thyself  shalt  see  the  act,'  replied  the  Antiquary. 

'Den,  gentlemens,  I  shall  take  my  leave  of  you,  dat 
is  all;  I  do  not  like  to  stand  on  your  what  you  call 
pillory,  it  is  very  bad  way  to  take  de  air,  I  think;  and 
I  do  not  like  your  prisons  no  more,  where  one  cannot 
take  de  air  at  all.' 

'If  such  be  your  taste,  Mr.  Dousterswivel,'  said  the 
Antiquary,  'I  advise  you  to  stay  where  you  are,  for  I 
cannot  let  you  go,  unless  it  be  in  the  society  of  a  con- 
stable; and,  moreover,  I  expect  you  will  attend  us  just 
now  to  the  ruins  of  St.  Ruth,  and  point  out  the  place 
where  you  propose  to  find  this  treasure.' 

'Mine  Heaven,  Mr.  Oldenbuck!  what  usage  is  this  to 
your  old  friend,  when  I  tell  you  so  plain  as  I  can  speak 
dat  if  you  go  now  you  will  get  not  so  much  treasure  as 
one  poor  shabby  sixpence? ' 

'I  will  try  the  experiment,  however,  and  you  shall  be 
308 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


dealt  with  according  to  its  success  —  always  with  Sir 
Arthur's  permission.' 

Sir  Arthur,  during  this  investigation,  had  looked  ex- 
tremely embarrassed,  and,  to  use  a  vulgar  but  express- 
ive phrase,  chopfallen.  Oldbuck's  obstinate  disbelief  led 
him  strongly  to  suspect  the  imposture  of  Dousterswivel, 
and  the  adept's  mode  of  keeping  his  ground  was  less 
resolute  than  he  had  expected.  Yet  he  did  not  entirely 
give  him  up. 

*Mr.  Oldbuck,'  said  the  Baronet,  'you  do  Mr.  Dous- 
terswivel less  than  justice.  He  has  undertaken  to  make 
this  discovery  by  the  use  of  his  art,  and  by  applying 
characters  descriptive  of  the  intelligences  presiding 
over  the  planetary  hour  in  which  the  experiment  is  to 
be  made;  and  you  require  him  to  proceed,  under  pain 
of  punishment,  without  allowing  him  the  use  of  any  of 
the  preliminaries  which  he  considers  as  the  means  of 
procuring  success.' 

'I  did  not  say  that  exactly:  I  only  required  him  to  be 
present  when  we  make  the  search,  and  not  to  leave  us 
during  the  interval.  I  fear  he  may  have  some  intelli- 
gence with  the  intelligences  you  talk  of,  and  that  what- 
ever may  be  now  hidden  at  St.  Ruth  may  disappear 
before  we  get  there.' 

'Well,  gentlemens,'  said  Dousterswivel,  sullenly,  'I 
will  make  no  objections  to  go  along  with  you;  but  I  tell 
you  beforehand,  you  shall  not  find  so  much  of  anything 
as  shall  be  worth  your  going  twenty  yard  from  your 
own  gate.' 

'We  will  put  that  to  a  fair  trial,'  said  the  Antiquary, 
And  the  Baronet's  equipage  being  ordered,  Miss  War- 
dour  received  an  intimation  from  her  father  that  she 


309 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


was  to  remain  at  Monkbarns  until  his  return  from  an 
airing.  The  young  lady  was  somewhat  at  a  loss  to  re- 
concile this  direction  with  the  communication  which 
she  supposed  must  have  passed  between  Sir  Arthur  and 
the  Antiquary;  but  she  was  compelled  for  the  present 
to  remain  in  a  most  unpleasant  state  of  suspense. 

The  journey  of  the  treasure-seekers  was  melancholy 
enough.  Dousterswivel  maintained  a  sulky  silence, 
brooding  at  once  over  disappointed  expectation  and 
the  risk  of  punishment;  Sir  Arthur,  whose  golden 
dreams  had  been  gradually  fading  away,  surveyed  in 
gloomy  prospect  the  impending  difficulties  of  his  situa- 
tion; and  Oldbuck,  who  perceived  that  his  having  so  far 
interfered  in  his  neighbour's  affairs  gave  the  Baronet 
a  right  to  expect  some  actual  and  efficient  assistance, 
sadly  pondered  to  what  extent  it  would  be  necessary  to 
draw  open  the  strings  of  his  purse.  Thus,  each  being 
wrapped  in  his  own  unpleasant  ruminations,  there  was 
hardly  a  word  said  on  either  side  until  they  reached  the 
Four  Horseshoes,  by  which  sign  the  little  inn  was  dis- 
tinguished. They  procured  at  this  place  the  necessary 
assistance  and  implements  for  digging,  and  while  they 
were  busy  about  these  preparations  were  suddenly 
joined  by  the  old  beggar,  Edie  Ochiltree. 

'The  Lord  bless  your  honour,'  began  the  Blue-Gown, 
with  the  genuine  mendicant  whine,  'and  long  life  to 
you;  weel  pleased  am  I  to  hear  that  young  Captain 
MTntyre  is  like  to  be  on  his  legs  again  sune.  Think  on 
your  poor  bedesman  the  day.' 

'Aha,  old  truepenny!'  replied  the  Antiquary.  'Why, 
thou  hast  never  come  to  Monkbarns  since  thy  perils  by 
rock  and  flood;  here's  something  for  thee  to  buy  snuff/ 

310 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

and,  fumbling  for  his  purse,  he  pulled  out  at  the  same 
time  the  horn  which  enclosed  the  coins. 

'Ay,  and  there's  something  to  pit  it  in, '  said  the  men- 
dicant, eyeing  the  ram's  horn;  Hhat  loom's  an  auld  ac- 
quaintance o'  mine.  I  could  take  my  aith  to  that  sneesh- 
ing-muU  amang  a  thousand;  I  carried  it  for  mony  a 
year,  till  I  niffered  it  for  this  tin  ane  wi'  auld  George 
Glen,  the  dammer  and  sinker,  when  he  took  a  fancy 
till't  doun  at  Glen  Withershins  yonder.' 

'Ay!  indeed?'  said  Oldbuck;  'so  you  exchanged  it 
with  a  miner?  But  I  presume  you  never  saw  it  so  well 
filled  before?'  and,  opening  it,  he  showed  the  coins. 

^  Troth,  ye  may  swear  that,  Monkbams;  when  it  was 
mine  it  ne'er  had  abune  the  like  o'  saxpenny  worth  o' 
black  rappee  in 't  at  ance.  But  I  reckon  ye  '11  be  gaun  to 
mak  an  antic  o't,  as  ye  hae  dune  wi'  mony  an  orra 
thing  besides.  Od,  I  wish  ony  body  wad  mak  an  antic 
o'  me;  but  mony  ane  will  find  worth  in  rousted  bits  o' 
capper  and  horn  and  airn,  that  care  unco  little  about  an 
auld  carle  o'  their  ain  country  and  kind.' 

'You  may  now  guess,'  said  Oldbuck,  turning  to  Sir 
Arthur,  'to  whose  good  offices  you  were  indebted  the 
other  night.  To  trace  this  cornucopia  of  yours  to  a 
miner  is  bringing  it  pretty  near  a  friend  of  ours.  I  hope 
we  shall  be  as  successful  this  morning  without  paying 
for  it.' 

'And  whare  is  your  honours  gaun  the  day,'  said  the 
mendicant,  'wi'  a'  your  picks  and  shules?  Od,  this  will 
be  some  o'  your  tricks,  Monkbarns;  ye '11  be  for  whirl- 
ing some  o'  the  auld  monks  down  by  yonder  out  o'  their 
graves  afore  they  hear  the  last  call;  but,  wi'  your  leave, 
I'se  follow  ye  at  ony  rate  and  see  what  ye  make  o't/ 

311 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


The  party  soon  arrived  at  the  ruins  of  the  priory,  and, 
having  gained  the  chancel,  stood  still  to  consider  what 
course  they  were  to  pursue  next. 

The  Antiquary,  meantime,  addressed  the  adept  — 
'Pray,  Mr.  Dousterswivel,  what  is  your  advice  in  this 
matter?  Shall  we  have  most  likelihood  of  success  if  we 
dig  from  east  to  west,  or  from  west  to  east?  or  will  you 
assist  us  with  your  triangular  vial  of  May-dew,  or  with 
your  divining-rod  of  witches-hazel?  Or  will  you  have 
the  goodness  to  supply  us  with  a  few  thumping,  blus- 
tering terms  of  art,  which,  if  they  fail  in  our  present 
service,  may  at  least  be  useful  to  those  who  have  not 
the  happiness  to  be  bachelors,  to  still  their  brawling 
children  withal?' 

'Mr.  Oldenbuck,'  said  Dousterswivel,  doggedly,  'I 
have  told  you  already,  you  will  make  no  good  work  at 
all,  and  I  will  find  some  way  of  mine  own  to  thank  you 
for  your  civiHties  to  me;  yes,  indeed.' 

'If  your  honours  are  thinking  of  tirling  the  floor,' 
said  old  Edie,  'and  wad  but  take  a  puir  body's  advice, 
I  would  begin  below  that  muckle  stane  that  has  the 
man  there  streekit  out  upon  his  back  in  the  midst  o't.' 

'I  have  some  reason  for  thinking  favourably  of  that 
plan  myself,'  said  the  Baronet. 

'And  I  have  nothing  to  say  against  it,'  said  Oldbuck. 
'It  was  not  unusual  to  hide  treasure  in  the  tombs  of  the 
deceased;  many  instances  might  be  quoted  of  that  from 
Bartholinus  and  others.' 

The  tombstone,  the  same  beneath  which  the  coins 
had  been  found  by  Sir  Arthur  and  the  German,  was 
once  more  forced  aside,  and  the  earth  gave  easy  way  to 
the  spade. 

312 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

^It's  traveird  earth  that,'  said  Edie,  Mt  howks  sae 
eithly.  I  ken  it  weel,  for  ance  I  wrought  a  simmer  wi' 
auld  Will  Winnet,  the  bedral,  and  howkit  mair  graves 
than  ane  in  my  day.  But  I  left  him  in  winter,  for  it  was 
unco  cald  wark;  and  then  it  cam  a  green  Yule,  and  the 
folk  died  thick  and  fast,  for  ye  ken  a  green  Yule  makes 
a  fat  kirk-yard;  and  I  never  dowed  to  bide  a  hard  turn 
o'  wark  in  my  life,  sae  aflf  I  gaed,  and  left  Will  to  delve 
his  last  dwellings  by  himsell  for  Edie/ 

The  diggers  were  now  so  far  advanced  in  their  labours 
as  to  discover  that  the  sides  of  the  grave  which  they 
were  clearing  out  had  been  originally  secured  by  four 
walls  of  freestone,  forming  a  parallelogram,  for  the  re- 
ception, probably,  of  the  cofl&n. 

'It  is  worth  while  proceeding  in  our  labours,'  said  the 
Antiquary  to  Sir  Arthur,  *were  it  but  for  curiosity's 
sake.  I  wonder  on  whose  sepulchre  they  have  bestowed 
such  uncommon  pains.' 

*The  arms  on  the  shield,'  said  Sir  Arthur,  and  sighed 
as  he  spoke  it,  'are  the  same  with  those  on  Misticot's 
Tower,  supposed  to  have  been  built  by  Malcolm  the 
Usurper.  No  man  knew  where  he  was  buried,  and  there 
is  an  old  prophecy  in  our  family  that  bodes  us  no  good 
when  his  grave  shall  be  discovered.' 

'I  wot,'  said  the  beggar,  'I  have  often  heard  that 
when  I  was  a  bairn, 

If  Malcolm  the  Misticot's  grave  were  fun^ 
The  lands  of  Knockwinnock  were  lost  and  won.' 

Oldbuck,  with  his  spectacles  on  his  nose,  had  already 
knelt  down  on  the  monument,  and  was  tracing,  partly 
with  his  eye,  partly  with  his  finger,  the  mouldered  de- 

313 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


vices  upon  the  effigy  of  the  deceased  warrior.  'It  is  the 
Knockwinnock  arms  sure  enough/  he  exclaimed,  'quar- 
terly with  the  coat  of  Wardour.' 

'Richard,  called  the  Red-handed  Wardour,  married 
Sybil  Knockwinnock,  the  heiress  of  the  Saxon  family, 
and  by  that  alliance,'  said  Sir  Arthur,  'brought  the  cas- 
tle and  estate  into  the  name  of  Wardour,  in  the  year  of 
God  1 1 50.' 

'Very  true.  Sir  Arthur,  and  here  is  the  baton-sinister, 
the  mark  of  illegitimacy,  extended  diagonally  through 
both  coats  upon  the  shield.  Where  can  your  eyes  have 
been  that  they  did  not  see  this  curious  monument  be- 
fore?' 

'Na,  whare  was  the  through-stane  that  it  didna  come 
before  our  een  till  e'enow?'  said  Ochiltree;  'for  I  hae 
kend  this  auld  kirk,  man  and  bairn,  for  saxty  lang 
years,  and  I  ne'er  noticed  it  afore,  and  it's  nae  sic  mote 
neither  but  what  ane  might  see  it  in  their  parritch.' 

All  were  now  induced  to  tax  their  memory  as  to  the 
former  state  of  the  ruins  in  that  corner  of  the  chancel, 
and  all  agreed  in  recollecting  a  considerable  pile  of  rub- 
bish which  must  have  been  removed  and  spread  abroad 
in  order  to  make  the  tomb  visible.  Sir  Arthur  might, 
indeed,  have  remembered  seeing  the  monument  on  the 
former  occasion,  but  his  mind  was  too  much  agitated 
to  attend  to  the  circumstance  as  a  novelty. 

While  the  assistants  were  engaged  in  these  recollec- 
tions and  discussions,  the  workmen  proceeded  with 
their  labour.  They  had  already  dug  to  the  depth  of 
nearly  five  feet,  and  as  the  flinging  out  the  soil  became 
more  and  more  difficult,  they  began  at  length  to  tire  of 
the  job. 

314 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

*We  're  down  to  the  till  now/  said  one  of  them,  ^and 
the  ne'er  a  coflfin  or  ony  thing  else  is  here;  some  cun- 
ninger  chiel's  been  afore  us,  I  reckon';  and  the  labourer 
scrambled  out  of  the  grave. 

^Hout,  lad,'  said  Edie,  getting  down  in  his  room,  ^let 
me  try  my  hand  for  an  auld  bedral;  ye 're  gude  seekers, 
but  ill  finders.' 

So  soon  as  he  got  into  the  grave,  he  struck  his 
pike-staff  forcibly  down:  it  encountered  resistance  in 
its  descent,  and  the  beggar  exclaimed,  like  a  Scotch 
schoolboy  when  he  finds  anything,  ^Nae  halvers 
and  quarters!  hale  o'  mine  ain  and  nane  o'  my  neigh- 
bour's.' 

Everybody,  from  the  dejected  Baronet  to  the  sullen 
adept,  now  caught  the  spirit  of  curiosity,  crowded 
round  the  grave,  and  would  have  jumped  into  it  could 
its  space  have  contained  them.  The  labourers,  who 
had  begun  to  flag  in  their  monotonous  and  apparently 
hopeless  task,  now  resumed  their  tools,  and  plied  them 
with  all  the  ardour  of  expectation.  Their  shovels  soon 
grated  upon  a  hard  wooden  surface,  which,  as  the  earth 
was  cleared  away,  assumed  the  distinct  form  of  a  chest, 
but  greatly  smaller  than  that  of  a  cofl&n.  Now  all  hands 
were  at  work  to  heave  it  out  of  the  grave,  and  all  voices, 
as  it  was  raised,  proclaimed  its  weight  and  augured  its 
value.  They  were  not  mistaken. 

When  the  chest  or  box  was  placed  on  the  surface,  and 
the  lid  forced  up  by  a  pickaxe,  there  was  displayed  first 
a  coarse  canvas  cover,  then  a  quantity  of  oakum,  and 
beneath  that  a  number  of  ingots  of  silver.  A  general  ex- 
clamation hailed  a  discovery  so  surprising  and  unex- 
pected. The  Baronet  threw  his  hands  and  eyes  up  to 

315 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

heaven,  with  the  silent  rapture  of  one  who  is  delivered 
from  inexpressible  distress  of  mind.  Oldbuck,  almost 
unable  to  credit  his  eyes,  lifted  one  piece  of  silver  after 
another.  There  was  neither  inscription  nor  stamp  upon 
them,  excepting  one,  which  seemed  to  be  Spanish,  He 
could  have  no  doubt  of  the  purity  and  great  value  of 
the  treasure  before  him.  Still,  however,  removing  piece 
by  piece,  he  examined  row  by  row,  expecting  to  dis- 
cover that  the  lower  layers  were  of  inferior  value;  but 
he  could  perceive  no  difference  in  this  respect,  and 
found  himself  compelled  to  admit  that  Sir  Arthur  had 
possessed  himself  of  bullion  to  the  value  perhaps  of  a 
thousand  pounds  sterling.  Sir  Arthur  now  promised 
the  assistants  a  handsome  recompense  for  their  trouble, 
and  began  to  busy  himself  about  the  mode  of  convey- 
ing this  rich  windfall  to  the  Castle  of  Knockwinnock, 
when  the  adept,  recovering  from  his  surprise,  which 
had  equalled  that  exhibited  by  any  other  individual  of 
the  party,  twitched  his  sleeve,  and  having  offered  his 
humble  congratulations,  turned  next  to  Oldbuck  with 
an  air  of  triumph. 

did  tell  you,  my  goot  friend  Mr.  Oldenbuck,  dat  I 
was  to  seek  opportunity  to  thank  you  for  your  civility; 
now  do  you  not  think  I  have  found  out  vary  goot  way 
to  return  thank? ' 

^Why,  Mr.  Dousterswivel,  do  you  pretend  to  have 
had  any  hand  in  our  good  success?  You  forget  you  re- 
fused us  all  aid  of  your  science,  man.  And  you  are  here 
without  your  weapons  that  should  have  fought  the  bat- 
tle which  you  pretend  to  have  gained  in  our  behalf. 
You  have  used  neither  charm,  lamen,  sigil,  talisman, 
spell,  crystal,  pentacle,  magic  mirror,  nor  geomantic 

316 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

figure.  Where  be  your  periapts  and  your  abracadabras, 
man?  your  May-fern,  your  vervain, 

Your  toad,  your  crow,  your  dragon,  and  your  panther, 
Your  sun,  your  moon,  your  firmament,  your  adrop, 
Your  Lato,  Azoch,  Zernich,  Chibrit,  Heautarit, 
With  all  your  broths,  your  menstrues,  your  materials, 
Would  burst  a  man  to  name  ? 

Ah!  rare  Ben  Jonson!  long  peace  to  thy  ashes  for  a 
scourge  of  the  quacks  of  thy  day!  Who  expected  to  see 
them  revive  in  our  own? ' 

The  answer  of  the  adept  to  the  Antiquary's  tirade  we 
must  defer  to  our  next  chapter. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 


Clause,  You  now  shall  know  the  king  o'  the  beggars'  treasure. 
Yes,  ere  to-morrow  you  shall  find  your  harbour 
Here;  fail  me  not,  for  if  I  live  I'll  fit  you. 

t  The  Beggar's  Bush,  -l 

The  German,  determined,  it  would  seem,  to  assert  the 
vantage-ground  on  which  the  discovery  had  placed  him, 
replied  with  great  pomp  and  stateliness  to  the  attack 
of  the  Antiquary:  'Maister  Oldenbuck,  all  dis  may  be 
very  witty  and  comedy,  but  I  have  nothing  to  say  — 
nothing  at  all  —  to  people  dat  will  not  believe  deir  own 
eyesights.  It  is  vary  true  dat  I  ave  not  any  of  de  things 
of  de  art,  and  it  makes  de  more  wonder  what  I  has  done 
dis  day.  But  I  would  ask  of  you,  mine  honoured  and 
goot  and  generous  patron,  to  put  your  hand  into  your 
right-hand  waistcoat  pocket  and  show  me  what  you 
shall  find  dere.' 

Sir  Arthur  obeyed  his  direction,  and  pulled  out  the 
small  plate  of  silver  which  he  had  used  under  the  adept's 
auspices  upon  the  former  occasion.  'It  is  very  true,^ 
said  Sir  Arthur,  looking  gravely  at  the  Antiquary;  'this 
is  the  graduated  and  calculated  sigil  by  which  Mr. 
Dousterswivel  and  I  regulated  our  first  discovery.' 

'Pshaw!  pshaw!  my  dear  friend,'  said  Oldbuck,  'you 
are  too  wise  to  believe  in  the  influence  of  a  trumpery 
crown-piece  beat  out  thin,  and  a  parcel  of  scratches 
upon  it.  I  tell  thee,  Sir  Arthur,  that  if  Dousterswivel 
had  known  where  to  get  this  treasure  himself,  you 
would  not  have  been  lord  of  the  least  share  of  it.' 


318 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

'In  troth,  please  your  honour/  said  Edie,  who  put  in 
his  word  on  all  occasions,  ^I  think,  since  Mr.  Dunker- 
swivel  has  had  sae  muckle  merit  in  discovering  a'  the 
gear,  the  least  ye  can  do  is  to  gie  him  that  o't  that's 
left  behind  for  his  labour,  for  doubtless  he  that  kend 
where  to  find  sae  muckle  will  hae  nae  difficulty  to  find 
mair/ 

DousterswiveFs  brow  grew  very  dark  at  this  proposal 
of  leaving  him  to  his  ^ain  purchase,'  as  Ochiltree  ex- 
pressed it;  but  the  beggar,  drawing  him  aside,  whis- 
pered a  word  or  two  in  his  ear,  to  which  he  seemed  to 
give  serious  attention. 

Meanwhile  Sir  Arthur,  his  heart  warm  with  his  good 
fortune,  said  aloud,  *  Never  mind  our  friend  Monk- 
barns,  Mr.  Dousterswivel,  but  come  to  the  Castle  to- 
morrow and  I  '11  convince  you  that  I  am  not  ungrateful 
for  the  hints  you  have  given  me  about  this  matter,  and 
the  fifty  Fairport  dirty  notes,  as  you  call  them,  are 
heartily  at  your  service.  Come,  my  lads,  get  the  cover 
of  this  precious  chest  fastened  up  again.' 

But  the  cover  had  in  the  confusion  fallen  aside  among 
the  rubbish  or  the  loose  earth  which  had  been  removed 
from  the  grave;  in  short,  it  was  not  to  be  seen. 

'Never  mind,  my  good  lads,  tie  the  tarpaulin  over  it 
and  get  it  away  to  the  carriage.  Monkbarns,  will  you 
walk?  I  must  go  back  your  way  to  take  up  Miss  War- 
dour.' 

'And,  I  hope,  to  take  up  your  dinner  also.  Sir  Arthur, 
and  drink  a  glass  of  wine  for  joy  of  our  happy  adven- 
ture. Besides,  you  should  write  about  the  business  to 
the  Exchequer,  in  case  of  any  interference  on  the  part  of 
the  Crown.  As  you  are  lord  of  the  manor,  it  will  be 

319 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

easy  to  get  a  deed  of  gift  should  they  make  any  claim. 
We  must  talk  about  it  though.' 

'And  I  particularly  recommend  silence  to  all  who  are 
present/  said  Sir  Arthur,  looking  round.  All  bowed  and 
professed  themselves  dumb. 

'Why,  as  to  that,'  said  Monkbarns,  'recommending 
secrecy  where  a  dozen  of  people  are  acquainted  with  the 
circumstance  to  be  concealed  is  only  putting  the  truth 
in  masquerade,  for  the  story  will  be  circulated  under 
twenty  different  shapes.  But  never  mind;  we  will  state 
the  true  one  to  the  Barons,  and  that  is  all  that  is  neces- 
sary.' 

'I  incline  to  send  off  an  express  to-night,'  said  the 
Baronet. 

'I  can  recommend  your  honour  to  a  sure  hand,'  said 
Ochiltree,  kittle  Davie  Mailsetter  and  the  butcher's 
reisting  powny.' 

'We  will  talk  over  the  matter  as  we  go  to  Monkbarns,' 
said  Sir  Arthur.  'My  lads  (to  the  work-people),  come 
with  me  to  the  Four  Horseshoes,  that  I  may  take  down 
all  your  names.  Dousterswivel,  I  won't  ask  you  to  go 
down  to  Monkbarns,  as  the  Laird  and  you  differ  so 
widely  in  opinion;  but  do  not  fail  to  come  to  see  me  to- 
morrow,' 

Dousterswivel  growled  out  an  answer,  in  which  the 
words,  'duty,'  ^mine  honoured  patron,'  and  'wait  upon 
Sir  Arthurs,'  were  alone  distinguishable;  and  after  the 
Baronet  and  his  friend  had  left  the  ruins,  followed  by 
the  servants  and  workmen,  who,  in  hope  of  reward  and 
whisky,  joyfully  attended  their  leader,  the  adept  re- 
mained in  a  brown  study  by  the  side  of  the  open  grave. 

'Who  was  it  as  could  have  thought  this?'  he  ejacu- 

320 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

lated  unconsciously.  ^Mine  heiligkeit  1  I  have  heard  of 
such  things,  and  often  spoken  of  such  things;  but, 
sapperment!  I  never  thought  to  see  them!  And  if  I 
had  gone  but  two  or  dree  feet  deeper  down  in  the 
earth,  mein  himmel I  it  had  been  all  mine  own;  so  much 
more  as  I  have  been  muddling  about  to  get  from  this 
fool's  man.' 

Here  the  German  ceased  his  soliloquy,  for,  raising 
his  eyes,  he  encountered  those  of  Edie  Ochiltree,  who 
had  not  followed  the  rest  of  the  company,  but,  resting 
as  usual  on  his  pike-stafif,  had  planted  himself  on  the 
other  side  of  the  grave.  The  features  of  the  old  man, 
naturally  shrewd  and  expressive  almost  to  an  appear- 
ance of  knavery,  seemed  in  this  instant  so  keenly  know- 
ing that  even  the  assurance  of  Dousterswivel,  though  a 
professed  adventurer,  sunk  beneath  their  glances.  But 
he  saw  the  necessity  of  an  eclaircissement,  and,  rallying 
his  spirits,  instantly  began  to  sound  the  mendicant  on 
the  occurrences  of  the  day.  ^  Goot  Maister  Edies  Ochil- 
trees — ' 

^Edie  Ochiltree,  nae  maister;  your  puir  bedesman 
and  the  king's,'  answered  the  Blue-Gown. 

^ Awell  den,  goot  Edie,  what  do  you  think  of  all  dis? ' 

'I  was  just  thinking  it  was  very  kind  —  for  I  darena 
say  very  simple  —  o'  your  honour  to  gie  thae  twa  rich 
gentles,  wha  hae  lands  and  lairdships,  and  siller  with- 
out end,  this  grand  pose  o'  silver  and  treasure  —  three 
times  tried  in  the  fire,  as  the  Scripture  expresses  it  — 
that  might  hae  made  yoursell,  and  ony  twa  or  three 
honest  bodies  beside,  as  happy  and  content  as  the  day 
was  lang.' 

^Indeed,  Edie,  mine  honest  friends,  dat  is  very  true; 
5  321 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


only  I  did  not  know  —  dat  is,  I  was  not  sure  —  where 
to  find  de  gelt  myself.' 

*  What!  was  it  not  by  your  honour's  advice  and  coun- 
sel that  Monkbarns  and  the  Knight  of  Knockwinnock 
came  here  then?' 

^Aha,  yes,  but  it  was  by  another  circumstance;  I  did 
not  know  dat  dey  would  have  found  de  treasure,  mein 
friend;  though  I  did  guess,  by  such  a  tintamarre,  and 
cough,  and  sneeze,  and  groan  among  de  spirit  one  other 
night  here,  dat  there  might  be  treasure  and  bullion  here- 
about. Ach,  mein  himmel!  the  spirit  will  hone  and  groan 
over  his  gelt  as  if  he  were  a  Dutch  burgomaster  counting 
his  dollars  after  a  great  dinner  at  the  stadthaus.^ 

^And  do  you  really  believe  the  like  o'  that,  Mr, 
Dusterdeevil?  a  skeelfu'  man  like  you;  hout  fie!' 

^Mein  friend,'  answered  the  adept,  forced  by  circum- 
stances to  speak  something  nearer  the  truth  than  he 
generally  used  to  do,  *  I  beUeved  it  no  more  than  you  and 
no  man  at  all,  till  I  did  hear  them  hone  and  moan  and 
groan  myself  on  de  oder  night,  and  till  I  did  this  day 
see  de  cause,  which  was  an  great  chest  all  full  of  de  pure 
silver  from  Mexico;  and  what  would  you  ave  me  think 
den?' 

'And  what  wad  ye  gie  to  ony  ane,'  said  Edie,  Hhat 
wad  help  ye  to  sic  another  kistfu'  o'  silver?' 

^Give?  mein  himmel  I  one  great  big  quarter  of  it/ 
*Now,  if  the  secret  were  mine,'  said  the  mendicant, 
wad  stand  out  for  a  half;  for  you  see,  though  I  am 
but  a  puir  ragged  body,  and  couldna  carry  silver  or 
gowd  to  sell  for  fear  o'  being  taen  up,  yet  I  could  find 
mony  folk  would  pass  it  awa  for  me  at  unco  muckle 
easier  profit  than  ye  're  thinking  on.' 

322 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

^Ach^  himmell  Mein  goot  friend,  what  was  it  I  said? 
I  did  mean  to  say  you  should  have  de  tree-quarter  for 
your  half,  and  de  one  quarter  to  be  my  fair  half.' 

'No,  no,  Mr.  Dusterdeevil,  we  will  divide  equally 
what  we  find,  like  brother  and  brother.  Now  look  at 
this  board  that  I  just  flung  into  the  dark  aisle  out  o'  the 
way,  while  Monkbarns  was  glowering  ower  a'  the  silver 
yonder.  He 's  a  sharp  chiel  Monkbarns.  I  was  glad  to 
keep  the  like  o'  this  out  o'  his  sight.  Ye  '11  maybe  can 
read  the  character  better  than  me;  I  am  nae  that  book- 
learned,  at  least  I'm  no  that  muckle  in  practice.' 

With  this  modest  declaration  of  ignorance,  Ochiltree 
brought  forth  from  behind  a  pillar  the  cover  of  the  box 
or  chest  of  treasure,  which,  when  forced  from  its  hinges, 
had  been  carelessly  flung  aside  during  the  ardour  of 
curiosity  to  ascertain  the  contents  which  it  concealed, 
and  had  been  afterwards,  as  it  seems,  secreted  by  the 
mendicant.  There  was  a  word  and  a  number  upon  the 
plank,  and  the  beggar  made  them  more  distinct  by 
spitting  upon  his  ragged  blue  handkerchief  and  rubbing 
off  the  clay  by  which  the  inscription  was  obscured.  It 
was  in  the  ordinary  black  letter. 

'Can  ye  mak  ought  o't?'  said  Edie  to  the  adept. 

'S,'  said  the  philosopher,  like  a  child  getting  his  les- 
son in  the  primer  —  'S,  T,  A,  R,  C,  H  —  starch;  dat  is 
what  de  women-washers  put  into  de  neckerchers  and  de 
shirt  collar.' 

'Starch!'  echoed  Ochiltree;  'na,na,Mr.  Dusterdeevil, 
ye  are  mair  of  a  conjurer  than  a  clerk;  it's  "search," 
man,  "search."  See,  there's  the  "Ye"  clear  and  dis- 
tinct.' 

'Aha!  I  see  it  now;  it  is  "search,  number  one."  Mein 
323 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


himmel!  then  there  must  be  a  number  two,"  mein 
goot  friend;  for  "search'^  is  what  you  call  to  seek  and 
dig,  and  this  is  but  number  one"!  Mine  wort,  there 
is  one  great  big  prize  in  de  wheel  for  us,  goot  Maister 
Ochiltree.' 

'Aweel,it  may  be  sae;  but  we  canna  howk  for 't  enow. 
We  hae  nae  shules,  for  they  hae  taen  them  a'  awa;  and 
it 's  like  some  o'  them  will  be  sent  back  to  fling  the  earth 
into  the  hole,  and  mak  a'  things  trig  again.  But  an 
ye '11  sit  down  wi'  me  a  while  in  the  wood,  I  'se  satisfy 
your  honour  that  ye  hae  just  lighted  on  the  only  man  in 
the  country  that  could  hae  tauld  about  Malcolm  Misti- 
cot  and  his  hidden  treasure.  But  first  we'll  rub  out  the 
letters  on  this  board  for  fear  it  tell  tales.' 

And,  by  the  assistance  of  his  knife,  the  beggar  erased 
and  defaced  the  characters  so  as  to  make  them  quite 
unintelligible,  and  then  daubed  the  board  with  clay  so 
as  to  obliterate  all  traces  of  the  erasure. 

Dousterswivel  stared  at  him  in  ambiguous  silence. 
There  was  an  intelligence  and  alacrity  about  all  the  old 
man's  movements  which  indicated  a  person  that  could 
not  be  easily  overreached,  and  yet  (for  even  rogues  ac- 
knowledge in  some  degree  the  spirit  of  precedence)  our 
adept  felt  the  disgrace  of  playing  a  secondary  part,  and 
dividing  winnings  with  so  mean  an  associate.  His  ap- 
petite for  gain,  however,  was  sufficiently  sharp  to  over- 
power his  offended  pride,  and,  though  far  more  an  im- 
postor than  a  dupe,  he  was  not  without  a  certain  degree 
of  personal  faith  even  in  the  gross  superstitions  by 
means  of  which  he  imposed  upon  others.  Still,  being 
accustomed  to  act  as  a  leader  on  such  occasions,  he  felt 
hiuniliated  at  feeling  himself  in  the  situation  of  a  vul- 


324 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


ture  marshalled  to  his  prey  by  a  carrion-crow.  'Let  me, 
however,  hear  his  story  to  an  end,'  thought  Douster- 
swivel,  ^  and  it  will  be  hard  if  I  do  not  make  mine  ac- 
count in  it  better,  as  Maister  Edie  Ochiltrees  makes 
proposes.' 

The  adept,  thus  transformed  into  a  pupil  from  a 
teacher  of  the  mystic  art,  followed  Ochiltree  in  passive 
acquiescence  to  the  Prior's  Oak  —  a  spot,  as  the  reader 
may  remember,  at  a  short  distance  from  the  ruins  — 
where  the  German  sat  down  and  in  silence  waited  the 
old  man's  communication. 

*  Maister  Dustandsnivel,'  said  the  narrator,  'it's  an 
unco  while  since  I  heard  this  business  treated  anent; 
for  the  Lairds  of  Knockwinnock,  neither  Sir  Arthur, 
nor  his  father,  nor  his  grandfather  —  and  I  mind  a  wee 
bit  about  them  a'  —  liked  to  hear  it  spoken  about;  nor 
they  dinna  like  it  yet.  But  nae  matter;  ye  may  be  sure 
it  was  clattered  about  in  the  kitchen,  like  ony  thing  else 
in  a  great  house,  though  it  were  forbidden  in  the  ha', 
and  sae  I  hae  heard  the  circumstance  rehearsed  by  auld 
servants  in  the  family;  and  in  thir  present  days,  when 
things  o'  that  auld-warld  sort  arena  keepit  in  mind 
round  winter  firesides  as  they  used  to  be,  I  question  if 
there's  ony  body  in  the  country  can  tell  the  tale  but 
mysell;  aye  out- taken  the  Laird  though,  for  there's  a 
parchment  book  about  it,  as  I  have  heard,  in  the 
charter  room  at  Knockwinnock  Castle.' 

'Well,  all  dat  is  vary  well;  but  get  you  on  with  your 
stories,  mine  goot  friend,'  said  Dousterswivel. 

'Aweel,  ye  see,'  continued  the  mendicant,  'this  was  a 
job  in  the  auld  times  o'  rugging  and  riving  through  the 
hale  country,  when  it  was  ilka  ane  for  himsell,  and  God 

32s 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


for  us  a';  when  nae  man  wanted  property  if  he  had 
strength  to  take  it,  or  had  it  langer  than  he  had  power 
to  keep  it.  It  was  just  he  ower  her  and  she  ower  him, 
whichever  could  win  upmost,  a'  through  the  east  coun- 
try here,  and  nae  doubt  through  the  rest  o'  Scotland 
in  the  self  and  same  manner. 

^Sae,  in  these  days  Sir  Richard  Wardour  came  into 
the  land,  and  that  was  the  first  o'  the  name  ever  was  in 
this  country.  There's  been  mony  o'  them  sin'  syne; 
and  the  maist,  like  him  they  ca'd  Hell-in-Harness,  and 
the  rest  o'  them,  are  sleeping  down  in  yon  ruins.  They 
were  a  proud  dour  set  o'  men,  but  unco  brave,  and  aye 
stood  up  for  the  weel  o'  the  country,  God  sain  them  a' 

—  there 's  no  muckle  popery  in  that  wish.  They  ca'd 
them  the  Norman  Wardours,  though  they  cam  frae  the 
south  to  this  country.  So  this  Sir  Richard,  that  they 
ca'd  Redhand,  drew  up  wi'  the  auld  Knockwinnock  o' 
that  day,  for  then  they  were  Knockwinnocks  of  that 
Ilk,  and  wad  fain  marry  his  only  daughter,  that  was  to 
have  the  castle  and  the  land.  Laith,  laith  was  the  lass 

—  Sybil  Knockwinnock  they  ca'd  her  that  tauld  me 
the  tale  —  laith,  laith  was  she  to  gae  into  the  match, 
for  she  had  fa'en  a  wee  ower  thick  wi'  a  cousin  o'  her  ain 
that  her  father  had  some  ill-will  to;  and  sae  it  was  that 
after  she  had  been  married  to  Sir  Richard  jimp  four 
months  —  for  marry  him  she  maun  it's  like  —  ye '11  no 
hinder  her  gieing  them  a  present  o'  a  bonny  knave  bairn. 
Then  there  was  siccan  a  ca'-thro'  as  the  like  was  never 
seen;  and  she's  be  burnt  and  he's  be  slain  was  the  best 
words  o'  their  mouths.  But  it  was  a'  sowdered  up  again 
some  gait,  and  the  bairn  was  sent  awa,  and  bred  up 
near  the  Highlands,  and  grew  up  to  be  a  fine  wanle  fal- 

326 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

low,  like  mony  ane  that  comes  o'  the  wrang  side  o'  the 
blanket;  and  Sir  Richard  wi'  the  Red  hand,  he  had  a 
fair  offspring  o'  his  ain,  and  a'  was  lound  and  quiet  till 
his  head  was  laid  in  the  ground.  But  then  down  came 
Malcolm  Misticot  —  Sir  Arthur  says  it  should  be  Mis- 
begot,  but  they  aye  ca'd  him  Misticot  that  spoke  o't 
lang  syne  —  down  came  this  Malcolm,  the  love-begot, 
frae  Glen  Isla,  wi'  a  string  o'  lang-legged  Highlanders 
at  his  heels,  that's  aye  ready  for  ony  body's  mischief, 
and  he  threeps  the  castle  and  lands  are  his  ain  as  his 
mother's  eldest  son,  and  turns  a'  the  Wardours  out  to 
the  hill.  There  was  a  sort  o'  fighting  and  blude-spilling 
about  it,  for  the  gentles  took  different  sides;  but  Mal- 
colm had  the  uppermost  for  a  lang  time,  and  keepit  the 
Castle  of  Knockwinnock,  and  strengthened  it,  and  built 
that  muckle  tower  that  they  ca'  Misticot's  Tower  to 
this  day.' 

^Mine  goot  friend,  old  Mr.  Edie  Ochiltree,'  inter- 
rupted the  German,  ^  this  is  all  as  one  Hke  de  long  his- 
tories of  a  baron  of  sixteen  quarters  in  mine  countries; 
but  I  would  as  rather  hear  of  de  silver  and  gold.' 

^Why,  ye  see,'  continued  the  mendicant,  Hhis  Mal- 
colm was  weel  helped  by  an  uncle,  a  brother  o'  his  fa- 
ther's, that  was  prior  o'  St.  Ruth  here,  and  muckle 
treasure  they  gathered  between  them,  to  secure  the 
succession  of  their  house  in  the  lands  of  Knockwinnock. 
Folk  said  that  the  monks  in  thae  days  had  the  art  of 
multiplying  metals;  at  ony  rate  they  were  very  rich.  At 
last  it  came  to  this,  that  the  young  Wardour,  that  was 
Red-hand's  son,  challenged  Misticot  to  fight  with  him 
in  the  lists,  as  they  ca'd  them;  that's  no  lists  or  tailor's 
runds  and  selvedges  o'  claith,  but  a  palin'-thing  they 

327 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


set  up  for  them  to  fight  in  like  game-cocks.  Aweel,  Mis- 
ticot  was  beaten,  and  at  his  brother's  mercy;  but  he 
wadna  touch  his  life,  for  the  blood  of  Knockwinnock 
that  was  in  baith  their  veins.  So  Malcolm  was  com- 
pelled to  turn  a  monk,  and  he  died  soon  after  in  the 
priory,  of  pure  despite  and  vexation.  Naebody  ever 
kend  whare  his  uncle  the  prior  carded  him,  or  what  he 
did  wi'  his  gowd  and  silver,  for  he  stood  on  the  right 
o'  halie  kirk,  and  wad  gie  nae  account  to  ony  body.  But 
the  prophecy  gat  abroad  in  the  country,  that  whenever 
Misticot's  grave  was  fund  out  the  estate  of  Knockwin- 
nock should  be  lost  and  won.' 

*Ach,  mine  goot  old  friend,  Maister  Edie,  and  dat 
is  not  so  very  unHkely,  if  Sir  Arthurs  will  quarrel  wit 
his  goot  friends  to  please  Mr.  Oldenbuck.  And  so  you 
do  tink  dat  dis  golds  and  silvers  belonged  to  goot  Mr. 
Malcolm  Mishdigoat?' 

^ Troth  do  I,  Mr.  Dousterdeevil.' 

^And  you  do  believe  dat  dere  is  more  of  dat  sorts  be- 
hind?' 

^By  my  certie  do  I.  How  can  it  be  otherwise? 
Search.  No.  I " ;  that  is  as  muckle  as  to  say,  search  and 
ye '11  find  number  twa;  besides,  yon  kist  is  only  silver, 
and  I  aye  heard  that  Misticot's  pose  had  muckle  yellow 
gowd  in 't.' 

^Den  mine  goot  friends,*  said  the  adept,  jumping 
up  hastily,  ^why  do  we  not  set  about  our  Uttle  job 
directly?' 

^For  twa  gude  reasons,'  answered  the  beggar,  who 
quietly  kept  his  sitting  posture;  'first,  because,  as  I  said 
before,  we  have  naiething  to  dig  wi',  for  they  hae  taen 
awa  the  picks  and  shules;  and,  secondly,  because  there 

328 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

will  be  a  wheen  idle  gowks  coming  to  glower  at  the  hole 
as  lang  as  it  is  daylight,  and  maybe  the  Laird  may  send 
somebody  to  fill  it  up;  and  ony  way  we  wad  be  catched. 
But  if  you  will  meet  me  on  this  place  at  twal  o^clock  wi' 
a  dark  lantern,  I  '11  hae  tools  ready,  and  we'll  gang 
quietly  about  our  job  our  twa  sells,  and  naebody  the 
wiser  for 't.' 

^Be — be— but,  mine  goot  friend,'  said  Douster- 
swivel,  from  whose  recollection  his  former  nocturnal  ad- 
venture was  not  to  be  altogether  erased,  even  by  the 
splendid  hopes  which  Edie's  narrative  held  forth,  ^it  is 
not  so  goot  or  so  safe  to  be  about  goot  Maister  Mish- 
digoat's  grave  at  dat  time  of  night;  you  have  forgot 
how  I  told  you  de  spirits  did  hone  and  mone  dere.  I  do 
assure  you  dere  is  disturbance  dere.' 

'If  ye  're  afraid  of  ghaists,'  answered  the  mendicant, 
coolly,  'I'll  do  the  job  mysell,  and  bring  your  share  o' 
the  siller  to  ony  place  ye  like  to  appoint.' 

'No  —  no,  mine  excellent  old  Mr.  Edie,  too  much 
trouble  for  you;  I  will  not  have  dat;  I  will  come  myself, 
and  it  will  be  bettermost;  for,  mine  old  friend,  it  was  I, 
Herman  Dousterswivel,  discovered  Maister  Mishdi- 
goat's  grave  when  I  was  looking  for  a  place  as  to  put 
away  some  little  trumpery  coins,  just  to  play  one  little 
trick  on  my  dear  friend  Sir  Arthur,  for  a  little  sport  and 
pleasures;  yes,  I  did  take  some  what  you  call  rubbish, 
and  did  discover  Maister  Mishdigoat's  own  monu- 
mentsh.  It  is  like  dat  he  meant  I  should  be  his  heirs, 
so  it  would  not  be  civility  in  me  not  to  come  mineself 
for  mine  inheritance.' 

'At  twal  o'clock,  then,'  said  the  mendicant,  'we  meet 
under  this  tree.  I'll  watch  for  a  while,  and  see  that 

329 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


naebody  meddles  wi'  the  grave  —  it's  only  saying  the 
Laird's  forbade  it  —  then  get  my  bit  supper  frae  Rin- 
gan  the  poinder  up  by,  and  leave  to  sleep  in  his  barn, 
and  I'll  slip  out  at  night  and  ne'er  be  mist.' 

^Do  so,  mine  goot  Maister  Edie,  and  I  will  meet  you 
here  on  this  very  place,  though  all  de  spirits  should 
moan  and  sneeze  deir  very  brains  out.' 

So  saying,  he  shook  hands  with  the  old  man,  and, 
with  this  mutual  pledge  of  fidelity  to  their  appointment, 
they  separated  for  the  present. 


CHAPTER  XXV 


See  thou  shake  the  bags 
Of  hoarding  abbots;  angels  imprisoned 
Set  thou  at  liberty. 

Bell,  book,  and  candle  shall  not  drive  me  back, 
If  gold  and  silver  beckon  to  come  on. 

King  John, 

The  night  set  in  stormy,  with  wind  and  occasional- 
showers  of  rain.  ^Eh,  sirs/  said  the  old  mendicant,  as 
he  took  his  place  on  the  sheltered  side  of  the  large  oak- 
tree  to  wait  for  his  associate  —  *eh,  sirs,  but  human 
nature's  a  wilful  and  wilyard  thing!  Is  it  not  an  unco 
lucre  o'  gain  wad  bring  this  Dousterdivel  out  in  a  blast 
o'  wind  like  this,  at  twal  o'clock  at  night,  to  thir  wild 
gousty  wa's?  and  amna  I  a  bigger  fule  than  himsell  to 
bide  here  waiting  for  him?' 

Having  made  these  sage  reflections,  he  wrapped  him- 
self close  in  his  cloak  and  fixed  his  eye  on  the  moon  as  j\j  - 
she  waded  amid  the  stormy  and  dusky  clouds,  which 
the  wind  from  time  to  time  drove  across  her  surface. 
The  melancholy  and  uncertain  gleams  that  she  shot 
from  between  the  passing  shadows  fell  full  upon  the 
rifted  arches  and  shafted  windows  of  the  old  building, 
which  were  thus  for  an  instant  made  distinctly  visible 
in  their  ruinous  state,  and  anon  became  again  a  dark, 
undistinguished,  and  shadowy  mass.  The  httle  lake 
had  its  share  of  these  transient  beams  of  hght,  and 
showed  its  waters  broken,  whitened,  and  agitated  under 
the  passing  storm,  which,  when  the  clouds  swept  over 
the  moon,  were  only  distinguished  by  their  sullen  and 

331 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


murmuring  plash  against  the  beach.  The  wooded  glen 
repeated,  to  every  successive  gust  that  hurried  through 
its  narrow  trough,  the  deep  and  various  groan  with 
which  the  trees  replied  to  the  whirlwind,  and  the  sound 
sunk  again,  as  the  blast  passed  away,  into  a  faint  and 
passing  murmur,  resembling  the  sighs  of  an  exhausted 
criminal  after  the  first  pangs,  of  his  torture  are  over.  In 
these  sounds  superstition  might  have  found  ample 
gratification  for  that  state  of  excited  terror  which  she 
fears  and  yet  loves.  But  such  feelings  made  no  part  of 
Ochiltree's  composition.  His  mind  wandered  back  to 
the  scenes  of  his  youth. 

'I  have  kept  guard  on  the  outposts  baith  in  Ger- 
many and  America,'  he  said  to  himself,  'in  mony  a  waur 
night  than  this,  and  when  I  kend  there  was  maybe  a 
dozen  o'  their  riflemen  in  the  thicket  before  me.  But  I 
was  aye  gleg  at  my  duty:  naebody  ever  catched  Edie 
sleeping.' 

As  he  muttered  thus  to  himself,  he  instinctively 
shouldered  his  trusty  pike-staff,  assumed  the  port  of  a 
sentinel  on  duty,  and,  as  a  step  advanced  towards  the 
tree,  called,  with  a  tone  assorting  better  with  his  mil- 
itary reminiscences  than  his  present  state  —  *  Stand; 
who  goes  there?' 

'De  devil,  goot  Edie,'  answered  Dousterswivel,  ^why 
does  you  speak  so  loud  as  a  baarenhauter,  or  what  you 
call  a  factionary  —  I  mean  a  sentinel?' 

'Just  because  I  thought  I  was  a  sentinel  at  that  mo- 
ment,' answered  the  mendicant.  'Here's  an  awsome 
night;  hae  ye  brought  the  lantern  and  a  pock  for  the 
siller?' 

*Ay,  ay,  mine  goot  friend,'  said  the  German,  'here  it 
332 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


is:  my  pair  of  what  you  call  saddlebag;  one  side  will  be 
for  you,  one  side  for  me.  I  will  put  dem  on  my  horse 
to  save  you  de  trouble,  as  you  are  old  man.' 

'Have  you  a  horse  here,  then?'  asked  Edie  Ochiltree. 

'O  yes,  mine  friend,  tied  yonder  by  de  stile,'  re- 
sponded the  adept. 

'Weel,  I  hae  just  ae  word  to  the  bargain:  there  sail 
nane  o'  my  gear  gang  on  your  beast's  back.' 

'What  was  it  as  you  would  be  afraid  of?'  said  the 
foreigner. 

'Only  of  losing  sight  of  horse,  man,  and  money,' 
again  replied  the  gaberlunzie. 

'Does  you  know  dat  you  make  one  gentlemans  out  to 
be  one  great  rogue?' 

'  Mony  gentlemen,'  replied  Ochiltree,  'can  make  that 
out  for  themselves;  but  what's  the  sense  of  quarrelling? 
If  ye  want  to  gang  on,  gang  on.  If  no,  I'll  gae  back  to 
the  gude  aitstraw  in  Ringan  Aikwood's  barn  that  I  left 
wi'  right  ill-will  e'now,  and  I'll  pit  back  the  pick  and 
shule  whar  I  got  them.' 

Dousterswivel  deliberated  a  moment  whether,  by  suf- 
fering Edie  to  depart,  he  might  not  secure  the  whole  of 
the  expected  wealth  for  his  own  exclusive  use.  But  the 
want  of  digging  implements,  the  uncertainty  whether, 
if  he  had  them,  he  could  clear  out  the  grave  to  a  suf- 
ficient depth  without  assistance,  and,  above  all,  the 
reluctance  which  he  felt,  owing  to  the  experience  of 
the  former  night,  to  venture  alone  on  the  terrors  of 
Misticot's  grave,  satisfied  him  the  attempt  would  be 
hazardous.  Endeavouring,  therefore,  to  assume  his 
usual  cajoling  tone,  though  internally  incensed,  he 
begged  'his  goot  friend  Maister  Edie  Ochiltrees  would 

333 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


lead  the  way,  and  assured  him  of  his  acquiescence  in  all 
such  an  excellent  friend  could  propose.' 

^Aweel,  aweel,  then/  said  Edie,  *tak  gude  care  o' 
your  feet  amang  the  lang  grass  and  the  loose  stanes.  I 
wish  we  may  get  the  light  keepit  in  neist,  wi'  this 
fearsome  wind;  but  there's  a  blink  o'  moonlight  at 
times,' 

Thus  saying,  old  Edie,  closely  accompanied  by  the 
adept,  led  the  way  towards  the  ruins,  but  presently 
made  a  full  halt  in  front  of  them. 

^Ye're  a  learned  man,  Mr.  Dousterdeevil,  and  ken 
muckle  o'  the  marvellous  works  o'  nature;  now,  will  ye 
tell  me  ae  thing?  D  'ye  believe  in  ghaists  and  spirits 
that  walk  the  earth?  d  'ye  believe  in  them,  ay  or  no?' 

*Now,  goot  Mr.  Edie,'  whispered  Dousterswivel,  in 
an  expostulatory  tone  of  voice,  4s  this  a  times  or  a 
places  for  such  a  questions?' 

^Indeed  is  it,  baith  the  tane  and  the  tother,  Mr. 
Dustanshovel;  for  I  maun  fairly  tell  ye  there's  reports 
that  auld  Misticot  walks.  Now  this  wad  be  an  uncanny 
night  to  meet  him  in,  and  wha  kens  if  he  wad  be  ower 
weel  pleased  wi'  our  purpose  of  visiting  his  pose? ' 

^Alle  guten  Geister/  muttered  the  adept,  the  rest  of 
the  conjuration  being  lost  in  a  tremulous  warble  of  his 
voice.  ^  I  do  desires  you  not  to  speak  so,  Mr.  Edie,  for, 
from  all  I  heard  dat  one  other  night,  I  do  much  be- 
lieves — ' 

^Now  I,'  said  Ochiltree,  entering  the  chancel,  and 
flinging  abroad  his  arm  with  an  air  of  defiance  —  'I 
wadna  gie  the  crack  o'  my  thumb  for  him  were  he  to 
appear  at  this  moment;  he's  but  a  disembodied  spirit  as 
we  are  embodied  anes.' 


334 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

'For  the  lofe  of  heavens/  said  Dousterswivel,  'say 
nothing  at  all  neither  about  somebodies  or  nobodies ! ' 

'Aweel/  said  the  beggar,  expanding  the  shade  of  the 
lantern,  'here's  the  stane,  and,  spirit  or  no  spirit,  I'se 
be  a  wee  bit  deeper  in  the  grave';  and  he  jumped  into 
the  place  from  which  the  precious  chest  had  that  morn- 
ing been  removed.  After  striking  a  few  strokes  he  tired, 
or  affected  to  tire,  and  said  to  his  companion, '  I 'm  auld 
and  failed  now,  and  canna  keep  at  it.  Time  about 's  fair 
play,  neighbour;  ye  maun  get  in  and  tak  the  shule  a  bit, 
and  shule  out  the  loose  earth,  and  then  I'll  tak  turn 
about  wi'  you.' 

Dousterswivel  accordingly  took  the  place  which  the 
beggar  had  evacuated,  and  toiled  with  all  the  zeal  that 
awakened  avarice,  mingled  with  the  anxious  wish  to 
finish  the  undertaking  and  leave  the  place  as  soon  as 
possible,  could  inspire  in  a  mind  at  once  greedy,  sus- 
picious, and  timorous. 

Edie,  standing  much  at  his  ease  by  the  side  of  the 
hole,  contented  himself  with  exhorting  his  associate  to 
labour  hard.  ^My  certie!  few  ever  wrought  for  siccan  a 
day's  wage;  an  it  be  but  —  say  the  tenth  part  o'  the  size 
o'  the  kist  No.  I,  it  will  double  its  value,  being  filled 
wi'  gowd  instead  of  silver.  Od,  ye  work  as  if  ye  had 
been  bred  to  pick  and  shule;  ye  could  win  your  round 
half-crown  ilka  day.  Tak  care  o'  your  taes  wi'  that 
stane!'  giving  a  kick  to  a  large  one  which  the  adept 
had  heaved  out  with  difficulty,  and  which  Edie  pushed 
back  again,  to  the  great  annoyance  of  his  associate's 
shins. 

Thus  exhorted  by  the  mendicant,  Dousterswivel 
struggled  and  laboured  among  the  stones  and  stiff  clay, 

335 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


toiling  like  a  horse,  and  internally  blaspheming  in  Ger- 
man. When  such  an  unhallowed  syllable  escaped  his 
lips,  Edie  changed  his  battery  upon  him. 

dinna  swear,  dinna  swear!  wha  kens  wha's  listen- 
ing! Eh!  Gude  guide  us,  what's  yon!  Hout,  it's  just  a 
branch  of  ivy  flightering  awa  frae  the  wa';  when  the 
moon  was  in  it  lookit  unco  like  a  dead  man's  arm  wi'  a 
taper  in 't;  I  thought  it  was  Misticot  himsell.  But  never 
mind,  work  you  away,  fling  the  earth  weel  up  bye  out 
o'  the  gate;  od,  if  ye 're  no  as  clean  a  worker  at  a  grave 
as  Will  Winnet  himsell!  What  gars  ye  stop  now?  ye 're 
just  at  the  very  bit  for  a  chance.' 

^Stop!'  said  the  German,  in  a  tone  of  anger  and  dis- 
appointment, ^why,  I  am  down  at  de  rocks  dat  de 
cursed  ruins  —  God  forgife  me!  —  is  founded  upon.' 

^  Weel,'  said  the  beggar, '  that 's  the  likeliest  bit  of  ony : 
it  will  be  but  a  muckle  through-stane  laid  doun  to  kiver 
the  gowd;  tak  the  pick  till't,  and  pit  mair  strength, 
man;  ae  gude  downright  devvel  will  spUt  it,  I'se  war- 
rant ye.  Ay,  that  will  do.  Od,  he  comes  on  wi'  Wal- 
lace's straiks!' 

In  fact,  the  adept,  moved  by  Edie's  exhortations, 
fetched  two  or  three  desperate  blows,  and  succeeded  in 
breaking,  not  indeed  that  against  which  he  struck, 
which,  as  he  had  already  conjectured,  was  the  solid 
rock,  but  the  implement  which  he  wielded,  jarring  at 
the  same  time  his  arms  up  to  the  shoulder-blades. 

^ Hurra,  boys!  there  goes  Ringan's  pickaxe!'  cried 
Edie;  4t's  a  shame  o'  the  Fairport  folk  to  sell  siccan 
frail  gear.  Try  the  shule;  at  it  again,  Mr.  DusterdeeviL' 

The  adept,  without  reply,  scrambled  out  of  the  pit, 
which  was  now  about  six  feet  deep,  and  addressed  his 

336 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

associate  in  a  voice  that  trembled  with  anger.  ^Does 
you  know,  Mr.  Edies  Ochiltrees,  who  it  is  you  put  off 
your  gibes  and  your  jests  upon? ' 

'Brawly,  Mr.  Dusterdeevil  —  brawly  do  I  ken  ye, 
and  has  done  mony  a  day;  but  there's  nae  jesting  in  the 
case,  for  I  am  wearying  to  see  a'  our  treasures;  we 
should  hae  had  baith  ends  o'  the  pockmanky  filled  by 
this  time.  I  hope  it 's  bowk  eneugh  to  baud  a'  the  gear?' 

^Look  you,  you  base  old  person,'  said  the  incensed 
philosopher,  4f  you  do  put  another  jest  upon  me,  I  will 
cleave  your  skull-piece  with  this  shovels ! ' 

'And  whare  wad  my  hands  and  my  pike-stajff  be  a' 
the  time?'  replied  Edie,  in  a  tone  that  indicated  no  ap- 
prehension. 'Hout,  tout,  Maister  Dusterdeevil,  I  haena 
lived  sae  lang  in  the  warld  neither,  to  be  shuled  out  o't 
that  gate.  What  ails  ye  to  be  cankered,  man,  wi'  your 
friends?  I  '11  wager  I  '11  find  out  the  treasure  in  a  min- 
ute' ;  and  he  jumped  into  the  pit  and  took  up  the  spade. 

'I  do  swear  to  you,'  said  the  adept,  whose  suspicions 
were  now  fully  awake,  '  that  if  you  have  played  me  one 
big  trick  I  will  give  you  one  big  beating,  Mr.  Edies.' 

'Hear  till  him  now,'  said  Ochiltree;  'he  kens  how  to 
gar  folk  find  out  the  gear.  Od,  I'm  thinking  he's  been 
drilled  that  way  himsell  some  day.' 

At  this  insinuation,  which  alluded  obviously  to  the 
former  scene  betwixt  himself  and  Sir  Arthur,  the  phil- 
osopher lost  the  slender  remnant  of  patience  he  had  left, 
and,  being  of  violent  passions,  heaved  up  the  truncheon 
of  the  broken  mattock  to  discharge  it  upon  the  old 
man's  head.  The  blow  would  in  all  probability  have 
been  fatal  had  not  he  at  whom  it  was  aimed  exclaimed 
in  a  stern  and  firm  voice,  'Shame  to  ye,  man!  Do  ye 

«  337 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


think  Heaven  or  earth  will  suffer  ye  to  murder  an  auld 
man  that  might  be  your  father?  Look  behind  ye,  man/ 
Dousterswivel  turned  instinctively,  and  beheld,  to 
his  utter  astonishment,  a  tall  dark  figure  standing  close 
behind  him.  The  apparition  gave  him  no  time  to  pro- 
ceed by  exorcism  or  otherwise,  but,  having  instantly 
recourse  to  the  vote  de  fait,  took  measure  of  the  adept's 
shoulders  three  or  four  times  with  blows  so  substantial 
that  he  fell  under  the  weight  of  them,  and  remained 
senseless  for  some  minutes  between  fear  and  stupefac- 
tion. When  he  came  to  himself  he  was  alone  in  the 
ruined  chancel,  lying  upon  the  soft  and  damp  earth 
which  had  been  thrown  out  of  Misticot's  grave.  He 
raised  himself  with  a  confused  sensation  of  anger,  pain, 
and  terror,  and  it  was  not  until  he  had  sat  upright  for 
some  minutes  that  he  could  arrange  his  ideas  sufficiently 
to  recollect  how  he  came  there,  or  with  what  purpose. 
As  his  recollection  returned,  he  could  have  little  doubt 
that  the  bait  held  out  to  him  by  Ochiltree  to  bring  him 
to  that  solitary  spot,  the  sarcasms  by  which  he  had 
provoked  him  into  a  quarrel,  and  the  ready  assistance 
which  he  had  at  hand  for  terminating  it  in  the  manner 
in  which  it  had  ended,  were  all  parts  of  a  concerted  plan 
to  bring  disgrace  and  damage  on  Herman  Dousterswivel. 
He  could  hardly  suppose  that  he  was  indebted  for  the 
fatigue,  anxiety,  and  beating  which  he  had  undergone 
purely  to  the  malice  of  Edie  Ochiltree  singly,  but  con- 
cluded that  the  mendicant  had  acted  a  part  assigned 
to  him  by  some  person  of  greater  importance.  His 
suspicions  hesitated  between  Oldbuck  and  Sir  Arthur 
Wardour.  The  former  had  been  at  no  pains  to  conceal 
a  marked  dislike  of  him,  but  the  latter  he  had  deeply  in- 

338 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


Jured;  and  although  he  judged  that  Sir  Arthur  did  not 
know  the  extent  of  his  wrongs  towards  him,  yet  it  was 
easy  to  suppose  he  had  gathered  enough  of  the  truth  to 
make  him  desirous  of  revenge.  Ochiltree  had  alluded 
to  at  least  one  circumstance  which  the  adept  had  every 
reason  to  suppose  was  private  between  Sir  Arthur  and 
himself,  and  therefore  must  have  been  learned  from  the 
former.  The  language  of  Oldbuck  also  intimated  a  con- 
viction of  his  knavery,  which  Sir  Arthur  heard  without 
making  any  animated  defence.  Lastly,  the  way  in 
which  Dousterswivel  supposed  the  Baronet  to  have  ex- 
ercised his  revenge  was  not  inconsistent  with  the  prac- 
tice of  other  countries  with  which  the  adept  was  better 
acquainted  than  with  those  of  North  Britain,  With 
him,  as  with  many  bad  men,  to  suspect  an  injury  and 
to  nourish  the  purpose  of  revenge  was  one  and  the  same 
movement.  And  before  Dousterswivel  had  fairly  re- 
covered his  legs  he  had  mentally  sworn  the  ruin  of  his 
benefactor,  which,  unfortunately,  he  possessed  too  much 
the  power  of  accelerating. 

But,  although  a  purpose  of  revenge  floated  through 
his  brain,  it  was  no  time  to  indulge  such  speculations. 
The  hour,  the  place,  his  own  situation,  and  perhaps  the 
presence  or  near  neighbourhood  of  his  assailants,  made 
self-preservation  the  adept's  first  object.  Thela^ntem'  /f^/l^/^^^ 
had  been  thrown  down  and  extinguished  in  the  scuflBe. 
The  wind,  which  formerly  howled  so  loudly  through  the 
aisles  of  the  ruin,  had  now  greatly  fallen,  lulled  by  the 
rain,  which  was  descending  very  fast.  The  moon,  from 
the  same  cause,  was  totally  obscured,  and  though 
Dousterswivel  had  some  experience  of  the  ruins,  and 
knew  that  he  must  endeavour  to  regain  the  eastern  door 


339 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


of  the  chancel,  yet  the  confusion  of  his  ideas  was  such 
that  he  hesitated  for  some  time  ere  he  could  ascertain 
in  what  direction  he  was  to  seek  it.  In  this  perplexity 
the  suggestions  of  superstition,  taking  the  advantage 
of  darkness  and  his  evil  conscience,  began  again  to 
present  themselves  to  his  disturbed  imagination.  'But 
bah!'  quoth  he  valiantly  to  himself,  4t  is  all  nonsense 
—  all  one  part  of  de  damn  big  trick  and  imposture. 
Devil!  that  one  thick-skulled  Scotch  Baronet,  as  I  have 
led  by  the  nose  for  five  year,  should  cheat  Herman 
Dousterswivel!' 

As  he  had  come  to  this  conclusion  an  incident  oc- 
curred which  tended  greatly  to  shake  the  grounds  on 
which  he  had  adopted  it.  Amid  the  melancholy  sough 
of  the  dying  wind  and  the  plash  of  the  raindrops  on 
leaves  and  stones,  arose,  and  apparently  at  no  great  dis- 
tance from  the  listener,  a  strain  of  vocal  music,  so  sad 
and  solemn  as  if  the  departed  spirits  of  the  churchmen, 
who  had  once  inhabited  these  deserted  ruins,  were 
mourning  the  solitude  and  desolation  to  which  their 
hallowed  precincts  had  been  abandoned.  Douster- 
swivel,  who  had  now  got  upon  his  feet  and  was 
groping  around  the  wall  of  the  chancel,  stood  rooted 
to  the  ground  on  the  occurrence  of  this  new  phenome- 
non. Each  faculty  of  his  soul  seemed  for  the  moment 
concentred  in  the  sense  of  hearing,  and  all  rushed 
back  with  the  unanimous  information  that  the  deep, 
wild,  and  prolonged  chant  which  he  now  heard  was 
the  appropriate  music  of  one  of  the  most  solemn  dirges 
of  the  Church  of  Rome.  Why  performed  in  such  a  sol- 
itude, and  by  what  class  of  choristers,  were  questions 
which  the  terrified  imagination  of  the  adept,  stirred 

340 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


with  all  the  German  superstitions  of  nixies,  oak-kings, 
werwolves,  hobgoblins,  black  spirits  and  white,  blue 
spirits  and  grey,  durst  not  even  attempt  to  solve. 

Another  of  his  senses  was  soon  engaged  in  the  investi- 
gation. At  the  extremity  of  one  of  the  transepts  of  the 
church,  at  the  bottom  of  a  few  descending  steps,  was  a 
small  iron-grated  door,  opening,  as  far  as  he  recollected, 
to  a  sort  of  low  vault  or  sacristy.  As  he  cast  his  eye  in 
the  direction  of  the  sound,  he  observed  a  strong  reflec- 
tion of  red  light  glimmering  through  these  bars,  and 
against  the  steps  which  descended  to  them.  Douster- 
swivel  stood  a  moment  uncertain  what  to  do  ;  then,  sud- 
denly forming  a  desperate  resolution,  he  moved  down 
the  aisle  to  the  place  from  which  the  light  proceeded. 

Fortified  with  the  sign  of  the  cross  and  as  many  ex- 
orcisms as  his  memory  could  recover,  he  advanced  to  the 
grate,  from  which,  unseen,  he  could  see  what  passed  in 
the  interior  of  the  vault.  As  he  approached  with  timid 
and  uncertain  steps,  the  chant,  after  one  or  two  wild 
and  prolonged  cadences,  died  away  into  profound  si- 
lence. The  grate,  when  he  reached  it,  presented  a  sin- 
gular spectacle  in  the  interior  of  the  sacristy.  An  open 
grave,  with  four  tall  flambeaus,  each  about  six  feet 
high,  placed  at  the  four  corners;  a  bier,  having  a  corpse 
in  its  shroud,  the  arms  folded  upon  the  breast,  rested 
upon  tressels  at  one  side  of  the  grave,  as  if  ready  to  be 
interred.  A  priest,  dressed  in  his  cope  and  stole,  held 
open  the  service-book;  another  churchman  in  his  vest- 
ments bore  a  holy- water  sprinkler;  and  two  boys  in 
white  surplices  held  censers  with  incense;  a  man,  of  a 
figure  once  tall  and  commanding,  but  now  bent  with 
age  or  infirmity,  stood  alone  and  nearesjt  to  the  coffin, 


341 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

attired  in  deep  mourning  —  such  were  the  most  pro- 
minent figures  of  the  group.  At  a  Kttle  distance  were 
two  or  three  persons  of  both  sexes,  attired  in  long 
mourning  hoods  and  cloaks;  and  five  or  six  others  in 
the  same  lugubrious  dress,  still  farther  removed  from 
the  body,  around  the  walls  of  the  vault  stood  ranged 
in  motionless  order,  each  bearing  in  his  hand  a  huge 
torch  of  black  wax.  The  smoky  light  from  so  many 
flambeaus,  by  the  red  and  indistinct  atmosphere  which 
it  spread  around,  gave  a  hazy,  dubious,  and,  as  it  were, 
phantom-like  appearance  to  the  outlines  of  this  singu- 
lar apparition.  The  voice  of  the  priest  —  loud,  clear, 
and  sonorous  —  now  recited,  from  the  breviary  which 
he  held  in  his  hand,  those  solemn  words  which  the  ritual 
of  the  CathoUc  Church  has  consecrated  to  the  render- 
ing of  dust  to  dust.  Meanwhile  Dousterswivel,  the 
place,  the  hour,  and  the  surprise  considered,  still  re- 
mained uncertain  whether  what  he  saw  was  substan- 
tial, or  an  unearthly  representation  of  the  rites  to  which 
in  former  times  these  walls  were  familiar,  but  which  are 
now  rarely  practised  in  Protestant  countries,  and  al- 
most never  in  Scotland.  He  was  uncertain  whether  to 
abide  the  conclusion  of  the  ceremony  or  to  endeavour 
to  regain  the  chancel,  when  a  change  in  his  position 
made  him  visible  through  the  grate  to  one  of  the  attend- 
ant mourners.  The  person  who  first  espied  him  indi- 
cated his  discovery  to  the  individual  who  stood  apart 
and  nearest  to  the  coffin  by  a  sign,  and,  upon  his  mak- 
ing a  sign  in  reply,  two  of  the  group  detached  them- 
selves, and,  gliding  along  with  noiseless  steps,  as  if 
fearing  to  disturb  the  service,  unlocked  and  opened  the 
grate  which  separated  them  from  the  adept.  Each  took 

342 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


him  by  an  arm,  and,  exerting  a  degree  of  force  which  he 
would  have  been  incapable  of  resisting  had  his  fear  per- 
mitted him  to  attempt  opposition,  they  placed  him  on 
the  ground  in  the  chancel  and  sat  down,  one  on  each 
side  of  him,  as  if  to  detain  him.  Satisfied  he  was  in  the 
power  of  mortals  like  himself,  the  adept  would  have  put 
some  questions  to  them;  but  while  one  pointed  to  the 
vault,  from  which  the  sound  of  the  priest's  voice  was 
distinctly  heard,  the  other  placed  his  finger  upon  his 
lips  in  token  of  silence,  a  hint  which  the  German  thought 
it  most  prudent  to  obey.  And  thus  they  detained  him 
until  a  loud  Alleluia,  pealing  through  the  deserted  arches 
of  St.  Ruth,  closed  the  singular  ceremony  which  it  had 
been  his  fortune  to  witness. 

When  the  hymn  had  died  away  with  all  its  echoes, 
the  voice  of  one  of  the  sable  personages  under  whose 
guard  the  adept  had  remained,  said,  in  a  familiar  tone 
and  dialect,  ^Dear  sirs,  Mr.  Dousterswivel,  is  this  you? 
could  not  ye  have  let  us  ken  an  ye  had  wussed  till  hae 
been  present  at  the  ceremony?  My  lord  couldna  tak  it 
weel  your  coming  blinking  and  jinking  in,  in  that  fash- 
ion.' 

^In  de  name  of  all  dat  is  gootness,  tell  me  what  you 
are? '  interrupted  the  German  in  his  turn. 

'What  I  am?  why,  wha  should  I  be  but  Ringan  Aik- 
wood,  the  Knockwinnock  poinder?  And  what  are  ye 
doing  here  at  this  time  o'  night,  unless  ye  were  come  to 
attend  the  leddy's  burial?' 

*I  do  declare  to  you,  mine  goot  Poinder  Aikwood,' 
said  the  German,  raising  himself  up,  'that  I  have  been 
this  vary  nights  murdered,  robbed,  and  put  in  fears  of 
my  life/ 


343 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


*  Robbed!  wha  wad  do  sic  a  deed  here?  Murdered! 
od,  ye  speak  pretty  blythe  for  a  murdered  man.  Put 
in  fear!  what  put  you  in  fear,  Mr.  Dousterswivel?' 

*I  will  tell  you,  Maister  Poinder  Aikwood  Ringan, 
just  dat  old  miscreant  dog  villain  Blue-Gown  as  you 
call  Edie  Ochiltrees.' 

'11  ne'er  believe  that,'  answered  Ringan;  'Edie  was 
kend  to  me,  and  my  father  before  me,  for  a  true,  loyal, 
and  soothfast  man;  and,  mair  by  token,  he's  sleeping 
up  yonder  in  our  barn,  and  has  been  since  ten  at  e'en. 
Sae  touch  ye  wha  liket,  Mr.  Dousterswivel,  and  whether 
ony  body  touched  ye  or  no,  I 'm  sure,  Edie's  sackless.' 

*  Maister  Ringan  Aikwood  Poinders,  I  do  not  know 
what  you  call  sackless,  but  let  alone  all  de  oils  and  de 
soot  dat  you  say  he  has,  and  I  will  tell  you  I  was  dis 
night  robbed  of  fifty  pounds  by  your  oil  and  sooty 
friend,  Edies  Ochiltree;  and  he  is  no  more  in  your  barn 
even  now  dan  I  ever  shall  be  in  de  kingdom  of  heafen.' 

*  Weel,  sir,  if  ye  will  gae  up  wi'  me,  as  the  burial  com- 
pany has  dispersed,  we  'se  mak  ye  down  a  bed  at  the 
lodge,  and  we  'se  see  if  Edie 's  at  the  barn.  There  were 
twa  wild-looking  chaps  left  the  auld  kirk  when  we 
were  coming  up  wi'  the  corpse,  that's  certain,  and  the 
priest  wha  likes  ill  that  ony  heretics  should  look  on  at 
our  church  ceremonies,  sent  twa  o'  the  riding  saulies 
after  them;  sae  we'll  hear  a'  about  it  frae  them.' 

Thus  speaking,  the  kindly  apparition,  with  the  assist- 
ance of  the  mute  personage,  who  was  his  son,  disencum- 
bered himself  of  his  cloak,  and  prepared  to  escort 
Dousterswivel  to  the  place  of  that  rest  which  the  adept 
so  much  needed. 

*I  will  apply  to  the  magistrates  to-morrow,'  said  the 

344 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

adept;  ^oder^  I  will  have  de  law  put  in  force  against  all 
the  peoples.' 

While  he  thus  muttered  vengeance  against  the  cause 
of  his  injury,  he  tottered  from  among  the  ruins,  sup- 
porting himself  on  Ringan  and  his  son,  whose  assist- 
ance his  state  of  weakness  rendered  very  necessary. 

When  they  were  clear  of  the  priory,  and  had  gained 
the  little  meadow  in  which  it  stands,  Dousterswivel  could 
perceive  the  'torches  which  had  caused  him  so  much 
alarm  issuing  in  irregular  procession  from  the  ruins, 
and  glancing  their  light,  like  that  of  the  ignis  fatuus,  on 
the  banks  of  the  lake.  After  moving  along  the  path  for 
some  short  space  with  a  fluctuating  and  irregular  motion, 
the  lights  were  at  once  extinguished. 

'We  aye  put  out  the  torches  at  the  Halie  Cross  Well 
on  sic  occasions,'  said  the  forester  to  his  guest;  and 
accordingly  no  farther  visible  sign  of  the  procession 
offered  itself  to  Dousterswivel,  although  his  ear  could 
catch  the  distant  and  decreasing  echo  of  horses'  hoofs  in 
the  direction  towards  which  the  mourners  had  bent  their 
course. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 


0  weel  may  the  boatie  row, 

And  better  may  she  speed. 
And  weel  may  the  boatie  row 

That  earns  the  bairn  ies'  bread  I 
The  boatie  rows,  the  boatie  rows, 

The  boatie  rows  fu'  weel. 
And  lightsome  be  their  life  that  bear 

The  merlin  and  the  creel  I 

Old  Ballad. 

We  must  now  introduce  our  reader  to  the  interior  of  the 
fisher's  cottage  mentioned  in  chapter  eleventh  of  this 
edifying  history.  I  wish  I  could  say  that  its  inside  was 
well  arranged,  decently  furnished,  or  tolerably  clean. 
On  the  contrary,  I  am  compelled  to  admit,  there  was 
confusion,  there  was  dilapidation,  there  was  dirt  good 
store.  Yet,  with  all  this,  there  was  about  the  inmates, 
Luckie  Mucklebackit  and  her  family,  an  appearance  of 
ease,  plenty,  and  comfort  that  seemed  to  warrant  their 
old  sluttish  proverb,  'The  clartier  the  cosier.'  A  huge 
fire,  though  the  season  was  summer,  occupied  the 
hearth,  and  served  at  once  for  affording  light,  heat,  and 
the  means  of  preparing  food.  The  fishing  had  been  suc- 
cessful, and  the  family,  with  customary  improvidence, 
had,  since  unlading  the  cargo,  continued  an  unremit- 
ting operation  of  broiling  and  frying  that  part  of  the 
produce  reserved  for  home  consumption,  and  the  bones 
and  fragments  lay  on  the  wooden  trenchers,  mingled 
with  morsels  of  broken  bannocks  and  shattered  mugs 
of  half-drunk  beer.  The  stout  and  athletic  form  of 
Maggie  herself,  busthng  here  and  there  among  a  pack 

346 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


of  half-grown  girls  and  younger  children,  of  whom  she 
chucked  one  now  here  and  another  now  there,  with  an  ex- 
clamation of  ^Get  out  o'  the  gate,  ye  little  sorrow!'  was 
strongly  contrasted  with  the  passive  and  half-stupefied 
look  and  manner  of  her  husband's  mother,  a  woman  ad- 
vanced to  the  last  stage  of  human  Ufe,  who  was  seated 
in  her  wonted  chair  close  by  the  fire,  the  warmth  of 
which  she  coveted,  yet  hardly  seemed  to  be  sensible  of, 
now  muttering  to  herself,  now  smiling  vacantly  to  the 
children  as  they  pulled  the  strings  of  her  ^toy'  or  close 
cap,  or  twitched  her  blue-checked  apron.  With  her 
distaff  in  her  bosom  and  her  spindle  in  her  hand,  she 
plied  lazily  and  mechanically  the  old-fashioned  Scottish 
thrift,  according  to  the  old-fashioned  Scottish  manner. 
The  younger  children,  crawling  among  the  feet  of  the 
elder,  watched  the  progress  of  grannie's  spindle  as  it 
twisted,  and  now  and  then  ventured  to  interrupt  its 
progress  as  it  danced  upon  the  floor  in  those  vagaries 
which  the  more  regulated  spinning-wheel  has  now  so 
universally  superseded  that  even  the  fated  Princess 
of  the  fairy  tale  might  roam  through  all  Scotland 
without  the  risk  of  piercing  her  hand  with  the  spin- 
dle and  dying  of  the  wound.  Late  as  the  hour  was 
(and  it  was  long  past  midnight),  the  whole  family  were 
still  on  foot,  and  far  from  proposing  to  go  to  bed;  the 
dame  was  still  busy  broiling  car-cakes  on  the  girdle, 
and  the  elder  girl,  the  half-naked  mermaid  elsewhere 
commemorated,  was  preparing  a  pile  of  Findhorn  had- 
docks (that  is,  haddocks  smoked  with  green  wood),  to 
be  eaten  along  with  these  relishing  provisions. 

While  they  were  thus  employed,  a  slight  tap  at  the 
door,  accompanied  with  the  question,  *Are  ye  up  yet, 


347 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


sirs?'  announced  a  visitor.  The  answer,  'Ay,  ay,  come 
your  ways  ben,  hinny,'  occasioned  the  lifting  of  the 
latch,  and  Jenny  Rintherout,  the  female  domestic  of 
our  Antiquary,  made  her  appearance. 

'Ay,  ay,'  exclaimed  the  mistress  of  the  family.  'Hegh, 
sirs!  can  this  be  you,  Jenny?  a  sight  o'  you's  gude  for 
sair  een,  lass.' 

'O,  woman,  we  've  been  sae  taen  up  wi'  Captain  Hec- 
tor's wound  up  bye  that  I  havena  had  my  fit  out  ower 
the  door  this  fortnight;  but  he's  better  now,  and  auld 
Caxon  sleeps  in  his  room  in  case  he  wanted  ony  thing. 
Sae,  as  soon  as  our  auld  folk  gaed  to  bed,  I  e'en  snooded 
my  head  up  a  bit,  and  left  the  house-door  on  the  latch, 
in  case  ony  body  should  be  wanting  in  or  out  while  I 
was  awa,  and  just  cam  down  the  gate  to  see  an  there 
was  ony  cracks  amang  ye.' 

'Ay,  ay,'  answered  Luckie  Mucklebackit,  'I  see  ye  hae 
gotten  a'  your  braws  on.  Ye  're  looking  about  for  Steenie 
now;  but  he's  no  at  hame  the  night,  and  ye '11  no  do  for 
Steenie,  lass:  a  feckless  thing  like  you's  no  fit  to  main- 
teen  a  man.' 

'  Steenie  will  no  do  for  me,'  retorted  Jenny,  with  a 
toss  of  her  head  that  might  have  become  a  higher-born 
damsel;  'I  maun  hae  a  man  that  can  mainteen  his  wife.' 

'Ou  ay,  hinny,  thae's  your  landward  and  burrows- 
town  notions.  My  certie!  fisher- wives  ken  better;  they 
keep  the  man,  and  keep  the  house,  and  keep  the  siller 
too,  lass.' 

'A  wheen  poor  drudges  ye  are,'  answered  the  nymph 
of  the  land  to  the  nymph  of  the  sea.  'As  sune  as  the 
keel  o'  the  coble  touches  the  sand,  deil  a  bit  mair  will 
the  lazy  fisher  loons  work,  but  the  wives  maun  kilt  their 

348 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


coats,  and  wade  into  the  surf  to  tak  the  fish  ashore. 
And  then  the  man  casts  aff  the  wat  and  puts  on  the 
dry,  and  sits  down  wi'  his  pipe  and  his  gill-stoup  ahint 
the  ingle,  Uke  ony  auld  houdie,  and  ne'er  a  turn  will  he 
do  till  the  coble's  afloat  again!  And  the  wife,  she  maun 
get  the  scull  on  her  back  and  awa  wi'  the  fish  to  the  next 
burrows-town,  and  scauld  and  ban  wi'  ilka  wife  that 
will  scauld  and  ban  wi'  her  till  it's  sauld;  and  that's 
the  gait  fisher-wives  live,  puir  slaving  bodies.' 

'Slaves!  gae  wa',  lass!  Ca'  the  head  o'  the  house 
slaves?  little  ye  ken  about  it,  lass.  Show  me  a  word  my 
Saunders  daur  speak,  or  a  turn  he  daur  do  about  the 
house,  without  it  be  just  to  tak  his  meat  and  his  drink 
and  his  diversion,  like  ony  o'  the  weans.  He  has  mair 
sense  than  to  ca'  onything  about  the  bigging  his  ain, 
frae  the  rooftree  down  to  a  crackit  trencher  on  the 
bink.  He  kens  weel  eneugh  wha  feeds  him  and  deeds 
him,  and  keeps  a'  tight,  thack  and  rape,  when  his  coble 
is  jowing  awa  in  the  Firth,  puir  fallow.  Na,  na,  lass; 
them  that  sell  the  goods  guide  the  purse;  them  that 
guide  the  purse  rule  the  house.  Show  me  ane  o^  your 
bits  o'  farmer-bodies  that  wad  let  their  wife  drive  the 
stock  to  the  market  and  ca'  in  the  debts.  Na,  na.'  ^ 

'Aweel,  aweel  Maggie,  ilka  land  has  its  ain  lauch. 
But  where 's  Steenie  the  night,  when  a 's  come  and  gane? 
And  Where's  the  gudeman?' 

'I  hae  puttin'  the  gudeman  to  his  bed,  for  he  was 
e'en  sair  forfairn;  and  Steenie 's  awa  out  about  some 
barnsbreaking  wi'  the  auld  gaberlunzie,  Edie  Ochiltree; 
they'll  be  in  sune,  and  ye  can  sit  doun.' 

^Troth,  gudewife  (taking  a  seat),  I  haena  that  muckle 

*  See  Note  7. 
349 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


time  to  stop;  but  I  maun  tell  ye  about  the  news.  Ye '11 
hae  heard  o'  the  muckle  kist  o'  gowd  that  Sir  Arthur 
has  fund  down  bye  at  St.  Ruth?  He'll  be  grander  than 
ever  now;  he'll  no  can  haud  down  his  head  to  sneeze, 
for  fear  o'  seeing  his  shoon.' 

^Ou  ay,  a'  the  country's  heard  o'  that;  but  auld  Edie 
says  they  ca'  it  ten  times  mair  than  ever  was  o't,  and 
he  saw  them  howk  it  up.  Od,  it  would  be  lang  or  a 
puir  body  that  needed  it  got  sic  a  windfa'.' 

*Na,  that's  sure  eneugh.  And  ye '11  hae  heard  o'  the 
Countess  o'  Glenallan  being  dead  and  lying  in  state, 
and  how  she's  to  be  buried  at  St.  Ruth's  as  this  night 
fa's,  wi'  torch-light;  and  a'  the  papist  servants,  and 
Ringan  Aikwood,  that's  a  papist  too,  are  to  be  there, 
and  it  will  be  the  grandest  show  ever  was  seen.' 

*  Troth,  hinny,'  answered  the  Nereid,  'if  they  let  nae- 
body  but  papists  come  there  it'll  no  be  muckle  o'  a 
show  in  this  country;  for  the  auld  harlot,  as  honest  Mr. 
Blattergowl  ca's  her,  has  few  that  drink  o'  her  cup  of 
enchantments  in  this  corner  of  our  chosen  lands.  But 
what  can  ail  them  to  bury  the  auld  carlin  —  a  rudas 
wife  she  was  —  in  the  night  time?  I  daresay  our  gude- 
mither  will  ken.' 

Here  she  exalted  her  voice  and  exclaimed  twice  or 
thrice,  *Gudemither!  gudemither!^  but,  lost  in  the 
apathy  of  age  and  deafness,  the  aged  sibyl  she  addressed 
continued  plying  her  spindle  without  understanding  the 
appeal  made  to  her. 

'Speak  to  your  grandmither, Jenny;  od,  I  wad  rather 
hail  the  coble  half  a  mile  aff ,  and  the  norwast  wind 
whistling  again  in  my  teeth.* 

'  Grannie,'  said  the  little  mermaid,  in  a  voice  to  which 

350 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

the  old  woman  was  better  accustomed,  ^minnie  wants 
to  ken  what  for  the  Glenallan  folk  aye  bury  by  candle- 
light in  the  ruins  of  St.  Ruth?' 

The  old  woman  paused  in  the  act  of  twirling  the 
spindle,  turned  round  to  the  rest  of  the  party,  lifted 
her  withered,  trembling,  and  clay-coloured  hand,  raised 
up  her  ashen-hued  and  wrinkled  face,  which  the  quick 
motion  of  two  light-blue  eyes  chiefly  distinguished  from 
the  visage  of  a  corpse,  and,  as  if  catching  at  any  touch 
of  association  with  the  living  world,  answered,  ^What 
gars  the  Glenallan  family  inter  their  dead  by  torch- 
light, said  the  lassie?  Is  there  a  Glenallan  dead  e'en 
now?' 

^We  might  be  a'  dead  and  buried  too,'  said  Maggie, 
'for  ony  thing  ye  wad  ken  about  it';  and  then,  raising 
her  voice  to  the  stretch  of  her  mother-in-law's  compre- 
hension, she  added,  ^It's  the  auld  Countess,  gude- 
mither.' 

^And  is  she  ca'd  hame  then  at  last?'  said  the  old  wo- 
man, in  a  voice  that  seemed  to  be  agitated  with  much 
more  feeling  than  belonged  to  her  extreme  old  age,  and 
the  general  indifference  and  apathy  of  her  manner  — 
*is  she  then  called  to  her  last  account  after  her  lang  race 
o'  pride  and  power?  O  God  forgie  her!' 

*But  minnie  was  asking  ye,'  resumed  the  lesser 
querist,  'what  for  the  Glenallan  family  aye  bury  their 
dead  by  torch-light?' 

'They  hae  aye  dune  sae,'  said  the  grandmother,  'since 
the  time  the  Great  Earl  fell  in  the  sair  battle  o'  the 
Harlaw,  when  they  say  the  coronach  was  cried  in  ae 
day  from  the  mouth  o'  the  Tay  to  the  Buck  of  the  Ca- 
brach,  that  ye  wad  hae  heard  nae  other  sound  but  that 

351 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


of  lamentation  for  the  great  folks  that  had  fa'en  fight- 
ing against  Donald  of  the  Isles.  But  the  Great  EarPs 
mither  was  living  —  they  were  a  doughty  and  a  dour 
race  the  women  o'  the  house  o'  Glenallan  —  and  she 
wad  hae  nae  coronach  cried  for  her  son,  but  had  him 
laid  in  the  silence  o'  midnight  in  his  place  o'  rest,  with- 
out either  drinking  the  dirge  or  crying  the  lament.  She 
said  he  had  killed  enow  that  day  he  died  for  the  widows 
and  daughters  o'  the  Highlanders  he  had  slain  to  cry 
the  coronach  for  them  they  had  lost  and  for  her  son  too; 
and  sae  she  laid  him  in  his  grave  wi'  dry  eyes,  and  with- 
out a  groan  or  a  wail.  And  it  was  thought  a  proud  word 
o'  the  family,  and  they  aye  stickit  by  it;  and  the  mair 
in  the  latter  times,  because  in  the  night-time  they  had 
mair  freedom  to  perform  their  popish  ceremonies  by 
darkness  and  in  secrecy  than  in  the  daylight;  at  least 
that  was  the  case  in  my  time.  They  wad  hae  been  dis- 
turbed in  the  day-time  baith  by  the  law  and  the  com- 
mons of  Fairport.  They  may  be  owerlooked  now,  as  I 
have  heard;  the  warld's  changed;  I  whiles  hardly  ken 
whether  I  am  standing  or  sitting,  or  dead  or  living.' 

And  looking  round  the  fire,  as  if  in  the  state  of  un- 
conscious uncertainty  of  which  she  complained,  old 
Elspeth  relapsed  into  her  habitual  and  mechanical 
occupation  of  twirling  the  spindle. 

^  Eh,  sirs ! '  said  Jenny  Rintherout,  under  her  breath  to 
her  gossip,  ^it's  awsome  to  hear  your  gudemither  break 
out  in  that  gait;  it's  like  the  dead  speaking  to  the  living.' 

^  Ye  're  no  that  far  wrang,  lass;  she  minds  naething  o' 
what  passes  the  day,  but  set  her  on  auld  tales,  and  she 
can  speak  like  a  prent  buke.  She  kens  mair  about  the 
Glenallan  family  than  maist  folk;  the  gudeman's  father 

352 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

was  their  fisher  mony  a  day.  Ye  maun  ken  the  papists 
make  a  great  point  o'  eating  fish;  it's  nae  bad  part 
their  religion  that,  whatever  the  rest  is.  I  could  aye  sell 
the  best  o'  fish  at  the  best  o*  prices  for  the  Countess's 
ain  table,  grace  be  wi'  her!  especially  on  a  Friday. 
But  see  as  our  gudemither's  hands  and  hps  are  gang- 
ing; now  it's  working  in  her  head  like  barm.  She'll 
ipeak  eneugh  the  night;  whiles  she'll  no  speak  a  word 
in  a  week,  unless  it  be  to  the  bits  o'  bairns.' 

*Hegh,  Mrs.  Mucklebackit,  she's  an  awsome  wife!' 
said  Jenny  in  reply.  ^ D'  ye  think  she 's  a'thegither  right? 
Folk  says  she  downa  gang  to  the  kirk  or  speak  to  the 
minister,  and  that  she  was  ance  a  papist;  but  since  her 
gudeman 's  been  dead  naebody  kens  what  she  is.  D'  ye 
think  yoursell  that  she 's  no  uncanny? ' 

*  Canny,  ye  silly  tawpie!  think  ye  ae  auld  wife 's  less 
canny  than  anither?  unless  it  be  Allison  Breck;  I  really 
couldna  in  conscience  swear  for  her;  I  have  kent  the 
boxes  she  set  fill'd  wi'  partans,  when — ' 

'Whisht,  whisht,  Maggie,'  whispered  Jenny,  'your 
gudemither 's  gaun  to  speak  again.' 

'  Wasna  there  some  ane  o'  ye  said,'  asked  the  old  sibyl, 
'or  did  I  dream,  or  was  it  revealed  to  me,  that  Josce- 
lind,  Lady  Glenallan,  is  dead,  an'  buried  this  night?' 

'Yes,  gudemither,'  screamed  the  daughter-in-law, 
'it's  e'en  sae.' 

'And  e'en  sae  let  it  be, '  said  old  Elspeth;  'she's  made 
mony  a  sair  heart  in  her  day;  ay,  e'en  her  ain  son's.  Is 
he  Uving  yet? ' 

'Ay,  he's  living  yet,  but  how  lang  he'll  live  —  how- 
ever, dinna  ye  mind  his  coming  and  asking  after  you  in 
the  spring,  and  leaving  siller? ' 

5  353 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


'It  may  be  sae,  Maggie,  I  dinna  mind  it;  but  a  hand- 
some gentleman  he  was,  and  his  father  before  him.  Eh! 
if  his  father  had  lived  they  might  hae  been  happy  folk ! 
But  he  was  gane,  and  the  lady  carried  it  in-ower  and 
out-ower  wi'  her  son,  and  garr^d  him  trow  the  thing  he 
never  suld  hae  trowed,  and  do  the  thing  he  has  repented 
a'  his  life,  and  will  repent  still,  were  his  life  as  lang  as 
this  lang  and  wearisome  ane  o'  mine/ 

*0  what  was  it,  grannie?'  and  'What  was  it,  gude- 
mither?'  and  'What  was  it,  Luckie  Elspeth?'  asked  the 
children,  the  mother,  and  the  visitor  in  one  breath. 

'Never  ask  what  it  was,'  answered  the  old  sibyl, 
'but  pray  to  God  that  ye  arena  left  to  the  pride  and 
wilfu'ness  o'  your  ain  hearts.  They  may  be  as  powerful 
in  a  cabin  as  in  a  castle;  I  can  bear  a  sad  witness  to 
that.  O  that  weary  and  fearfu'  night!  will  it  never 
gang  out  o'  my  auld  head?  Eh!  to  see  her  lying  on  the 
floor  wi'  her  lang  hair  dreeping  wi'  the  salt  water! 
Heaven  will  avenge  on  a'  that  had  to  do  wi't.  Sirs!  is 
my  son  out  wi'  the  coble  this  windy  e'en?* 

'Na,  na,  mither;  nae  coble  can  keep  the  sea  this  wind; 
he*s  sleeping  in  his  bed  out-ower  yonder  ahint  the  hal- 
lan.' 

'Is  Steenie  out  at  sea  then?' 

'Na,  grannie,  Steenie 's  awa  out  wi  auld  Edie  Ochil- 
tree, the  gaberlunzie;  maybe  they'll  be  gaun  to  see  the 
burial.' 

'That  canna  be,' said  the  mother  of  the  family.  'We 
kent  naething  o't  till  Jock  Rand  cam  in,  and  tauld  us 
the  Aikwoods  had  warning  to  attend;  they  keep  thae 
things  unco  private,  and  they  were  to  bring  the  corpse 
a'  the  way  frae  the  castle,  ten  miles  off,  under  cloud  o' 

354 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

night.  She  has  lain  in  state  this  ten  days  at  Glenallan 
House,  in  a  grand  chamber,  a'  hung  wi'  black  and 
lighted  wi'  wax  cannle.' 

*God  assoilzie  her!'  ejaculated  old  Elspeth,  her  head 
apparently  still  occupied  by  the  event  of  the  Countess's 
death;  ^she  was  a  hard-hearted  woman,  but  she's  gaen 
to  account  for  it  a',  and  His  mercy  is  infinite.  God 
grant  she  may  find  it  sae!'  And  she  relapsed  into  si- 
lence, which  she  did  not  break  again  during  the  rest  of 
the  evening. 

wonder  what  that  auld  daft  beggar  carle  and  our 
son  Steenie  can  be  doing  out  in  sic  a  night  as  this,'  said 
Maggie  Mucklebackit,  and  her  expression  of  surprise 
was  echoed  by  her  visitor.  ^  Gang  awa,  ane  o'  ye,  hin- 
nies,  up  to  the  heugh  head,  and  gie  them  a  cry  in  case 
they're  within  hearing;  the  car-cakes  will  be  burnt  to 
a  cinder.' 

The  little  emissary  departed,  but  in  a  few  minutes 
came  running  back  with  the  loud  exclamation,  ^Eh,  min- 
nie!  eh,  grannie!  there's  a  white  bogle  chasing  twa 
black  anes  down  the  heugh.' 

A  noise  of  footsteps  followed  this  singular  annuncia- 
tion, and  young  Steenie  Mucklebackit,  closely  followed 
by  Edie  Ochiltree,  bounced  into  the  hut.  They  were 
panting  and  out  of  breath.  The  first  thing  Steenie  did 
was  to  look  for  the  bar  of  the  door,  which  his  mother 
reminded  him  had  been  broken  up  for  firewood  in  the 
hard  winter  three  years  ago;  ^for  what  use,'  she  said, 
'had  the  like  o'  them  for  bars?' 

*  There's  naebody  chasing  us,'  said  the  beggar,  after 
he  had  taken  his  breath;  'we're  e'en  like  the  wicked, 
that  flee  when  no  one  pursueth.' 

355 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


'Troth,  but  we  were  chased/  said  Steenie,  'by  a 
spirit,  or  something  little  better.' 

^It  was  a  man  in  white  on  horseback,'  said  Edie,  'for 
the  saft  grund,  that  wadna  bear  the  beast,  flung  him 
about,  I  wot  that  weel;  but  I  didna  think  my  auld  legs 
could  have  brought  me  aff  as  fast;  I  ran  amaist  as  fast 
as  if  I  had  been  at  Prestonpans.' 

'Hout,  ye  daft  gowks,'  said  Luckie  Mucklebackit,  'it 
will  hae  been  some  o'  the  riders  at  the  Countess's  burial.' 

'What!'  said  Edie,  'is  the  auld  Countess  buried  the 
night  at  St.  Ruth's?  Ou,  that  wad  be  the  lights  and 
the  noise  that  scarr'd  us  awa.  I  wish  I  had  kend,  I  wad 
hae  stude  them,  and  no  left  the  man  yonder;  but  they'll 
take  care  o'  him.  Ye  strake  ower  hard,  Steenie;  I  doubt 
ye  foundered  the  chield.' 

'Ne'er  a  bit,'  said  Steenie,  laughing;  'he  has  braw 
broad  shouthers,  and  I  just  took  the  measure  o'  them 
wi'  the  stang,  Od,  if  I  hadna  been  something  short  wi' 
him  he  wad  hae  knockit  your  auld  harns  out,  lad.' 

'Weel,  an  I  win  clear  o'  this  scrape,'  said  Edie,  'I'se 
tempt  Providence  nae  mair.  But  I  canna  think  it  an 
unlawfu'  thing  to  pit  a  bit  trick  on  sic  a  landlouping 
scoundrel  that  just  lives  by  tricking  honester  folk.' 

'But  what  are  we  to  do  with  this?'  said  Steenie,  pro- 
ducing a  pocket-book. 

'Od  guide  us,  man,'  said  Edie,  in  great  alarm,  'what 
gar'd  ye  touch  the  gear?  a  very  leaf  o'  that  pocket-book 
wad  be  eneugh  to  hang  us  baith.' 

'I  dinna  ken,'  said  Steenie;  'the  book  had  fa'en  out 
o'  his  pocket,  I  fancy,  for  I  fand  it  amangmy  feet  when 
I  was  graping  about  to  set  him  on  his  legs  again,  and 
I  just  pat  it  in  my  pouch  to  keep  it  safe;  and  then 

356 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

came  the  tramp  of  horse,  and  you  cried,  "Rin,  rin,"  and 
I  had  nae  mair  thought  o'  the  book/ 

^  We  maun  get  it  back  to  the  loon  some  gait  or  other; 
ye  had  better  take  it  yoursell,  I  think,  wi'  peep  o'  Ught, 
up  to  Ringan  Aikwood's.  I  wadna  for  a  hundred  pounds 
it  was  fund  in  our  hands.' 

Steenie  undertook  to  do  as  he  was  directed. 

'A  bonny  night  ye  hae  made  o't,  Mr.  Steenie/  said 
Jenny  Rintherout,  who,  impatient  of  remaining  so  long 
unnoticed,  now  presented  herself  to  the  young  fisher- 
man —  ^a  bonny  night  ye  hae  made  o't,  tramping  about 
wi'  gaberlunzies,  and  getting  yoursell  hunted  wi'  wor- 
ricows,  when  ye  suld  be  sleeping  in  your  bed  like  your 
father,  honest  man.* 

This  attack  called  forth  a  suitable  response  of  rustic 
raillery  from  the  young  fisherman.  An  attack  was  now 
commenced  upon  the  car-cakes  and  smoked  fish,  and 
sustained  with  great  perseverance  by  assistance  of  a 
bicker  or  two  of  twopenny  ale  and  a  bottle  of  gin.  The 
mendicant  then  retired  to  the  straw  of  an  outhouse 
adjoining;  the  children  had  one  by  one  crept  into  their 
nests;  the  old  grandmother  was  deposited  in  her  flock- 
bed;  Steenie,  notwithstanding  his  preceding  fatigue, 
had  the  gallantry  to  accompany  Miss  Rintherout  to 
her  own  mansion,  and  at  what  hour  he  returned  the 
story  saith  not;  and  the  matron  of  the  family,  having 
laid  the  gathering-coal  upon  the  fire  and  put  things  in 
some  sort  of  order,  retired  to  rest  the  last  of  the  family. 


CHAPTER  XXVII 


Many  great  ones 
Would  part  with  half  their  states  to  have  the  plan 
And  credit  to  beg  in  the  first  style. 

The  Beggar's  Bush. 

Old  Edie  was  stirring  with  the  lark,  and  his  first  in- 
quiry was  after  Steenie  and  the  pocket-book.  The 
young  fisherman  had  been  under  the  necessity  of  attend- 
ing his  father  before  daybreak  to  avail  themselves  of 
the  tide,  but  he  had  promised  that,  immediately  on  his 
return,  the  pocket-book,  with  all  its  contents,  carefully 
wrapped  up  in  a  piece  of  sail-cloth,  should  be  delivered 
by  him  to  Ringan  Aikwood,  for  Dousterswivel,  the 
owner. 

The  matron  had  prepared  the  morning  meal  for  the 
family,  and,  shouldering  her  basket  of  fish,  tramped  stur- 
dily away  towards  Fairport.  The  children  were  idling 
round  the  door,  for  the  day  was  fair  and  sunshiny. 
The  ancient  grandame,  again  seated  on  her  wicker- 
chair  by  the  fire,  had  resumed  her  eternal  spindle, 
wholly  unmoved  by  the  yelling  and  screaming  of  the 
children,  and  the  scolding  of  the  mother,  which  had  pre- 
ceded the  dispersion  of  the  family.  Edie  had  arranged 
his  various  bags,  and  was  bound  for  the  renewal  of  his 
wandering  life,  but  first  advanced  with  due  courtesy  to 
take  his  leave  of  the  ancient  crone. 

'Gude  day  to  ye,  cummer,  and  mony  ane  o'  them.  I 
will  be  back  about  the  fore-end  o'  har'st,  and  I  trust  to 
find  ye  baith  haill  and  fere.' 

3S8 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

*Pray  that  ye  may  find  me  in  my  quiet  grave/  said 
the  old  woman,  in  a  hollow  and  sepulchral  voice,  but 
without  the  agitation  of  a  single  feature. 

'Ye 're  auld,  cummer,  and  sae  am  I  mysell;  but  we 
maun  abide  His  will;  we'll  no  be  forgotten  in  His  good 
time.' 

'Nor  our  deeds  neither,'  said  the  crone;  'what 's  dune 
in  the  body  maun  be  answered  in  the  spirit.' 

'I  wot  that's  true;  and  I  may  weel  tak  the  tale  hame 
to  mysell,  that  hae  led  a  misruled  and  roving  life.  But 
ye  were  aye  a  canny  wife.  We  're  a'  frail,  but  ye  canna 
hae  sae  muckle  to  bow  ye  down.' 

'Less  than  I  might  have  had;  but  mair,  0  far  mair, 
than  wad  sink  the  stoutest  brig  e'er  sailed  out  o'  Fair- 
port  harbour!  Didna somebody  say  yestreen  —  at  least 
sae  it  is  borne  in  on  my  mind,  but  auld  folk  hae  weak 
fancies  —  did  not  somebody  say  that  Joscelind,  Count- 
ess of  Glenallan,  was  departed  frae  life? ' 

'They  said  the  truth  whaever  said  it,'  answered  old 
Edie;  'she  was  buried  yestreen  by  torch-light  at  St. 
Ruth's,  and  I,  like  a  fule,  gat  a  gliff  wi'  seeing  the 
lights  and  the  riders.' 

'It  was  their  fashion  since  the  days  of  the  Great  Earl 
that  was  killed  at  Harlaw.  They  did  it  to  show  scorn 
that  they  should  die  and  be  buried  like  other  mortals. 
The  wives  o'  the  house  of  Glenallan  wailed  nae  wail  for 
the  husband,  nor  the  sister  for  the  brother.  But  is  she 
e'en  ca'd  to  the  lang  account? ' 

'As  sure,'  answered  Edie,  'as  we  maun  a'  abide  it.' 

'Then  I'll  unlade  my  mind,  come  o't  what  will.' 

This  she  spoke  with  more  alacrity  than  usually 
attended  her  expressions,  and  accompanied  her  words 

359 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


with  an  attitude  of  the  hand,  as  if  throwing  something 
from  her.  She  then  raised  up  her  form,  once  tall,  and 
still  retaining  the  appearance  of  having  been  so,  though 
bent  with  age  and  rheumatism,  and  stood  before  the 
beggar  like  a  mummy  animated  by  some  wandering 
spirit  into  a  temporary  resurrection.  Her  light-blue 
eyes  wandered  to  and  fro,  as  if  she  occasionally  forgot 
and  again  remembered  the  purpose  for  which  her  long 
and  withered  hand  was  searching  among  the  miscel- 
laneous contents  of  an  ample  old-fashioned  pocket. 
At  length  she  pulled  out  a  small  chip-box,  and,  opening 
it,  took  out  a  handsome  ring,  in  which  was  set  a  braid 
of  hair,  composed  of  two  different  colours,  black  and 
light  brown,  twined  together,  encircled  with  brilliants 
of  considerable  value. 

'Gudeman,'  she  said  to  Ochiltree,  'as  ye  wad  e'er 
deserve  mercy,  ye  maun  gang  my  errand  to  the  house 
of  Glenallan  and  ask  for  the  Earl.' 

'The  Earl  of  Glenallan,  cummer!  ou,  he  winna  see 
ony  o'  the  gentles  o'  the  country,  and  what  likelihood  is 
there  that  he  wad  see  the  like  o'  an  auld  gaberlunzie? ' 

'  Gang  your  ways  and  try,  and  tell  him  that  Elspeth 
o'  the  Craigburnfoot  —  he  '11  mind  me  best  by  that  name 
—  maun  see  him  or  she  be  relieved  frae  her  lang  pil- 
grimage, and  that  she  sends  him  that  ring  in  token  of 
the  business  she  wad  speak  o'.' 

Ochiltree  looked  on  the  ring  with  some  admiration 
of  its  apparent  value,  and  then  carefully  replacing  it  in 
the  box,  and  wrapping  it  in  an  old  ragged  handkerchief, 
he  deposited  the  token  in  his  bosom. 

'Weel,  gudewife,'  he  said,  'I  'se  do  your  bidding,  or 
it 's  no  be  my  fault.  But  surely  there  was  never  sic  a 

360 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

braw  propine  as  this  sent  to  a  yerl  by  an  auld  fish-wife, 
and  through  the  hands  of  a  gaberlunzie  beggar.' 

With  this  reflection  Edie  took  up  his  pike-staff,  put 
on  his  broad-brimmed  bonnet,  and  set  forth  upon  his 
pilgrimage.  The  old  woman  remained  for  some  time 
standing  in  a  fixed  posture,  her  eyes  directed  to  the  door 
through  which  her  ambassador  had  departed.  The  ap- 
pearance of  excitation  which  the  conversation  had  oc- 
casioned gradually  left  her  features,  she  sunk  down 
upon  her  accustomed  seat,  and  resumed  her  mechanical 
labour  of  the  distaff  and  spindle  with  her  wonted  air 
of  apathy. 

Edie  Ochiltree  meanwhile  advanced  on  his  journey. 
The  distance  to  Glenallan  was  ten  miles,  a  march  which 
the  old  soldier  accomplished  in  about  four  hours.  With 
the  curiosity  belonging  to  his  idle  trade  and  animated 
character,  he  tortured  himself  the  whole  way  to  consider 
what  could  be  the  meaning  of  this  mysterious  errand 
with  which  he  was  entrusted,  or  what  connexion  the 
proud,  wealthy,  and  powerful  Earl  of  Glenallan  could 
have  with  the  crimes  or  penitence  of  an  old  doting 
woman,  whose  rank  in  Ufe  did  not  greatly  exceed  that 
of  her  messenger.  He  endeavoured  to  call  to  memory 
all  that  he  had  ever  known  or  heard  of  the  Glenallan 
family,  yet,  having  done  so,  remained  altogether  unable 
to  form  a  conjecture  on  the  subject.  He  knew  that 
the  whole  extensive  estate  of  this  ancient  and  powerful 
family  had  descended  to  the  Countess  lately  deceased, 
who  inherited  in  a  most  remarkable  degree  the  stern, 
fierce,  and  unbending  character  which  had  distinguished 
the  house  of  Glenallan  since  they  first  figured  in  Scot- 
tish annals.  Like  the  rest  of  her  ancestors,  she  adhered 

361 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


zealously  to  the  Roman  Catholic  faith,  and  was  married 
to  an  English  gentleman  of  the  same  communion,  and 
of  large  fortune,  who  did  not  survive  their  union  two 
years.  The  Countess  was  therefore  left  an  early  widow, 
with  the  uncontrolled  management  of  the  large  estates 
of  her  two  sons.  The  elder.  Lord  Geraldin,  who  was  to 
succeed  to  the  title  and  fortune  of  Glenallan,  was  to- 
tally dependent  on  his  mother  during  her  life.  The  sec- 
ond, when  he  came  of  age,  assumed  the  name  and  arms 
of  his  father,  and  took  possession  of  his  estate,  accord- 
ing to  the  provisions  of  the  Countess's  marriage  settle- 
ment. After  this  period  he  chiefly  resided  in  England, 
and  paid  very  few  and  brief  visits  to  his  mother  and 
brother;  and  these  at  length  were  altogether  dispensed 
with,  in  consequence  of  his  becoming  a  convert  to  the 
reformed  religion. 

But  even  before  this  mortal  offence  was  given  to  its 
mistress,  his  residence  at  Glenallan  offered  few  induce- 
ments to  a  gay  young  man  like  Edward  Geraldin  Ne- 
ville, though  its  gloom  and  seclusion  seemed  to  suit  the 
retired  and  melancholy  habits  of  his  elder  brother.  Lord 
Geraldin  in  the  outset  of  life  had  been  a  young  man  of 
accomplishment  and  hopes.  Those  who  knew  him  upon 
his  travels  entertained  the  highest  expectations  of  his 
future  career.  But  such  fair  dawns  are  often  strangely 
overcast.  The  young  nobleman  returned  to  Scotland, 
and,  after  living  about  a  year  in  his  mother's  society  at 
Glenallan  House,  he  seemed  to  have  adopted  all  the 
stern  gloom  and  melancholy  of  her  character.  Excluded 
from  politics  by  the  incapacities  attached  to  those  of  his 
religion,  and  from  all  lighter  avocations  by  choice.  Lord 
Geraldin  led  a  life  of  the  strictest  retirement.  His  ordi- 

362 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

nary  society  was  composed  of  the  clergymen  of  his  com- 
munion, who  occasionally  visited  his  mansion;  and  very 
rarely,  upon  stated  occasions  of  high  festival,  one  or  two 
families  who  still  professed  the  Catholic  religion  were 
formally  entertained  at  Glenallan  House.  But  this  was 
all.  Their  heretic  neighbours  knew  nothing  of  the  fam- 
ily whatever;  and  even  the  Catholics  saw  little  more 
than  the  sumptuous  entertainment  and  solemn  parade 
which  was  exhibited  on  those  formal  occasions,  from 
which  all  returned  without  knowing  whether  most  to 
wonder  at  the  stern  and  stately  demeanour  of  the 
Countess,  or  the  deep  and  gloomy  dejection  which  never 
ceased  for  a  moment  to  cloud  the  features  of  her  son. 
The  late  event  had  put  him  in  possession  of  his  fortune 
and  title,  and  the  neighbourhood  had  already  begun  to 
conjecture  whether  gaiety  would  revive  with  independ- 
ence, when  those  who  had  some  occasional  acquaint- 
ance with  the  interior  of  the  family  spread  abroad  a 
report  that  the  Earl's  constitution  was  undermined  by 
religious  austerities,  and  that  in  all  probability  he  would 
soon  follow  his  mother  to  the  grave.  This  event  was 
the  more  probable,  as  his  brother  had  died  of  a  linger- 
ing complaint,  which  in  the  latter  years  of  his  life  had 
affected  at  once  his  frame  and  his  spirits;  so  that  heralds 
and  genealogists  were  already  looking  back  into  their 
records  to  discover  the  heir  of  this  ill-fated  family,  and 
lawyers  were  talking  with  gleesome  anticipation  of  the 
probability  of  a  'great  Glenallan  cause.' 

As  Edie  Ochiltree  approached  the  front  of  Glenallan 
House,  an  ancient  building  of  great  extent,  the  most 
modern  part  of  which  had  been  designed  by  the  cele- 
brated Inigo  Jones,  he  began  to  consider  in  what  way  he 

363 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


should  be  most  likely  to  gain  access  for  delivery  of  his 
message;  and,  after  much  consideration,  resolved  to 
send  the  token  to  the  Earl  by  one  of  the  domestics. 
With  this  purpose  he  stopped  at  a  cottage,  where  he 
obtained  the  means  of  making  up  the  ring  in  a  sealed 
packet  like  a  petition,  addressed,  Forr  his  hounor  the 
Yerl  of  Glenllan  —  These.  But,  being  aware  that 
missives  delivered  at  the  doors  of  great  houses  by  such 
persons  as  himself  do  not  always  make  their  way  ac- 
cording to  address,  Edie  determined,  like  an  old  soldier, 
to  reconnoitre  the  ground  before  he  made  his  final 
attack.  As  he  approached  the  porter's  lodge  he  dis- 
covered, by  the  number  of  poor  ranked  before  it  — 
some  of  them  being  indigent  persons  in  the  vicinity, 
and  others  itinerants  of  his  own  begging  profession  — 
that  there  was  about  to  be  a  general  dole  or  distribu- 
tion of  charity. 

^A  good  turn,'  said  Edie  to  himself,  ^  never  goes  un- 
rewarded; I'll  maybe  get  a  good  awmous  that  I  wad  hae 
missed  but  for  trotting  on  this  auld  wife's  errand.' 

Accordingly,  he  ranked  up  with  the  rest  of  this  ragged 
regiment,  assuming  a  station  as  near  the  front  as  pos- 
sible —  a  distinction  due,  as  he  conceived,  to  his  blue 
gown  and  badge,  no  less  than  to  his  years  and  expe- 
rience; but  he  soon  found  there  was  another  principU 
of  precedence  in  this  assembly  to  which  he  had  not 
adverted. 

'Are  ye  a  triple  man,  friend,  that  ye  press  forward 
sae  bauldly?  I'm  thinking  no,  for  there's  nae  Catholics 
wear  that  badge.' 

*Na,  na,  I  am  no  a  Roman,'  said  Edie. 

*Then  shank  yoursell  awa  to  the  double  folk,  or  sin- 

364 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

gle  folk,  that's  the  Episcopals  or  Presbyterians  yonder*, 
it 's  a  shame  to  see  a  heretic  hae  sic  a  lang  white  beard, 
that  would  do  credit  to  a  hermit.' 

Ochiltree,  thus  rejected  from  the  society  of  the 
Catholic  mendicants,  or  those  who  called  themselves 
such,  went  to  station  himself  with  the  paupers  of  the 
communion  of  the  Church  of  England,  to  whom  the  no- 
ble donor  allotted  a  double  portion  of  his  charity.  But 
never  was  a  poor  occasional  conformist  more  roughly 
rejected  by  a  High  Church  congregation,  even  when 
that  matter  was  furiously  agitated  in  the  days  of  good 
Queen  Anne. 

'See  to  him  wi'  his  badge!'  they  said;  'he  hears  ane 
o'  the  king's  Presbyterian  chaplains  sough  out  a  sermon 
on  the  morning  of  every  birthday,  and  now  he  would 
pass  himsell  for  ane  o'  the  Episcopal  Church!  Na,  na! 
we  '11  take  care  o'  that.' 

Edie,  thus  rejected  by  Rome  and  prelacy,  was  fain  to 
shelter  himself  from  the  laughter  of  his  brethren  among 
the  thin  group  of  Presbyterians,  who  had  either  dis- 
dained to  disguise  their  religious  opinions  for  the  sake  of 
an  augmented  dole,  or  perhaps  knew  they  could  not  at- 
tempt the  imposition  without  a  certainty  of  detection. 

The  same  degree  of  precedence  was  observed  in  the 
mode  of  distributing  the  charity,  which  consisted  in 
bread,  beef,  and  a  piece  of  money  to  each  individual  of 
all  the  three  classes.  The  almoner,  an  ecclesiastic  of  grave 
appearance  and  demeanour,  superintended  in  person 
the  accommodation  of  the  Catholic  mendicants,  asking 
a  question  or  two  of  each  as  he  delivered  the  charity, 
and  recommending  to  their  prayers  the  soul  of  Josce- 
lind,  late  Countess  of  Glenallan,  mother  of  their  bene- 

36s 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


factor.  The  porter,  distinguished  by  his  long  staff  headed 
with  silver,  and  by  the  black  gown  tufted  with  lace  of 
the  same  colour,  which  he  had  assumed  upon  the  gen- 
eral mourning  in  the  family,  overlooked  the  distribu- 
tion of  the  dole  among  the  prelatists.  The  less-favoured 
kirk-folk  were  committed  to  the  charge  of  an  aged 
domestic. 

As  this  last  discussed  some  disputed  point  with  the 
porter,  his  name,  as  it  chanced  to  be  occasionally  men- 
tioned, and  then  his  features,  struck  Ochiltree,  and 
awakened  recollections  of  former  times.  The  rest  of 
the  assembly  were  now  retiring,  when  the  domestic, 
again  approaching  the  place  where  Edie  still  lingered, 
said,  in  a  strong  Aberdeenshire  accent,  ^Fat  is  the  auld 
feel-body  deeing,  that  he  canna  gang  avay ,  now  that  he 's 
gotten  baith  meat  and  siller?' 

'Francie  Macraw,'  answered  Edie  Ochiltree,  'd'ye  no 
mind  Fontenoy,  and  ''Keep  thegither,  front  and  rear! "' 

'Ohon,  ohon!'  cried  Francie,  with  a  true  north  coun- 
try yell  of  recognition,  'naebody  could  hae  said  that 
word  but  my  auld  front-rank  man,  Edie  Ochiltree!  But 
I'm  sorry  to  see  ye  in  sic  a  peer  state,  man.' 

'No  sae  ill  aff  as  ye  may  think,  Francie.  But  I'm 
laith  to  leave  this  place  without  a  crack  wi'  you,  and 
I  kenna  when  I  may  see  you  again,  for  your  folk  dinna 
mak  Protestants  welcome,  and  that's  ae  reason  that 
I  hae  never  been  here  before.' 

'  Fusht,  fusht,'  said  Francie,  'let  that  flee  stick  i' 
the  wa'  —  when  the  dirt's  dry  it  will  rub  out  —  and 
come  you  awa  wi'  me,  and  I'll  gie  ye  something  better 
than  that  beef  bane,  man.' 

Having  then  spoke  a  confidential  word  with  the  por- 
366 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

ter  (probably  to  request  his  connivance),  and  having 
waited  until  the  almoner  had  returned  into  the  house 
with  slow  and  solemn  steps,  Francie  Macraw  intro- 
duced his  old  comrade  into  the  court  of  Glenallan 
House,  the  gloomy  gateway  of  which  was  surmounted  by 
a  huge  scutcheon,  in  which  the  herald  and  undertaker 
had  mingled,  as  usual,  the  emblems  of  human  pride  and 
of  human  nothingness:  the  Countess's  hereditary  coat- 
of-arms,  with  all  its  numerous  quarterings,  disposed  in  a 
lozenge,  and  surrounded  by  the  separate  shields  of  her 
paternal  and  maternal  ancestry,  intermingled  with 
scythes,  hour-glasses,  skulls,  and  other  symbols  of  that 
mortality  which  levels  all  distinctions.  Conducting  his 
friend  as  speedily  as  possible  along  the  large  paved  court, 
Macraw  led  the  way  through  a  side-door  to  a  small  apart- 
ment near  the  servants'-hall,  which,  in  virtue  of  his 
personal  attendance  upon  the  Earl  of  Glenallan,  he  was 
entitled  to  call  his  own.  To  produce  cold  meat  of  va- 
rious kinds,  strong  beer,  and  even  a  glass  of  spirits,  was 
no  difficulty  to  a  person  of  Francie's  importance,  who 
had  not  lost,  in  his  sense  of  conscious  dignity,  the  keen 
northern  prudence  which  recommended  a  good  under- 
standing with  the  butler.  Our  mendicant  envoy  drank 
ale  and  talked  over  old  stories  with  his  comrade,  until, 
no  other  topic  of  conversation  occurring,  he  resolved  to 
take  up  the  theme  of  his  embassy,  which  had  for  some 
time  escaped  his  memory, 

^He  had  a  petition  to  present  to  the  Earl,'  he  said; 
for  he  judged  it  prudent  to  say  nothing  of  the  ring,  not 
knowing,  as  he  afterwards  observed,  how  far  the  man- 
ners of  a  single  soldier  might  have  been  corrupted  by 
service  in  a  great  house. 

367 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


*Hout,  tout,  man/  said  Francie,  Hhe  Earl  will  look 
at  nae  petitions;  but  I  can  gie 't  to  the  almoner.' 

'But  it  relates  to  some  secret,  that  maybe  my  lord 
wad  like  best  to  see 't  himsell.' 

'I'm  jeedging  that's  the  very  reason  that  the  almoner 
will  be  for  seeing  it  the  first  and  foremost.' 

'But  I  hae  come  a'  this  way  on  purpose  to  deliver  it, 
Francie,  and  ye  really  maun  help  me  at  a  pinch.' 

'Ne'er  speed  then  if  I  dinna,' answered  the  Aberdeen- 
shire man;  'let  them  be  as  cankered  as  they  like,  they 
can  but  turn  me  awa,  and  I  was  just  thinking  to  ask  my 
discharge  and  gang  down  to  end  my  days  at  Inverurie.' 

With  this  doughty  resolution  of  serving  his  friend  at 
all  ventures,  since  none  was  to  be  encountered  which 
could  much  inconvenience  himself,  Francie  Macraw  left 
the  apartment.  It  was  long  before  he  returned,  and 
when  he  did  his  manner  indicated  wonder  and  agitation. 

'I  am  nae  seere  gin  ye  be  Edie  Ochiltree  o'  Carrick's 
company  in  the  Forty-twa,  or  gin  ye  be  the  deil  in  his 
likeness ! ' 

'And  what  makes  ye  speak  in  that  gait?'  demanded 
the  astonished  mendicant. 

'Because  my  lord  has  been  in  sic  a  distress  and  seer- 
preese  as  I  ne'er  saw  a  man  in  my  Hfe.  But  he  '11  see  you ; 
I  got  that  job  cookit.  He  was  like  a  man  awa  frae  him- 
sell  for  mony  minutes,  and  I  thought  he  wad  hae  swarv't 
a'thegither;  and  fan  he  cam'  to  himsell  he  asked  fae 
brought  the  packet,  and  fat  trow  ye  I  said?' 

'An  auld  soger,'  says  Edie;  'that  does  likeliest  at  a 
gentle's  door;  at  a  farmer's  it's  best  to  say  ye 're  an  auld 
tinkler,  if  ye  need  ony  quarters,  for  maybe  the  gude- 
wife  will  hae  something  to  souther.' 

368 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


'But  I  said  ne'er  ane  o'  the  twa/  answered  Francie; 
'my  lord  cares  as  little  about  the  tane  as  the  tother,  for 
he's  best  to  them  that  can  souther  up  our  sins.  Sae  I 
e'en  said  the  bit  paper  was  brought  by  an  auld  man  wi' 
a  lang  fite  beard;  he  might  be  a  capeechin  freer  for  fat 
I  kend,  for  he  was  dressed  like  an  auld  palmer.  Sae 
ye  '11  be  sent  for  up  f anever  he  can  find  mettle  to  face 
ye.' 

'I  wish  I  was  weel  through  this  business/  thought 
Edie  to  himself;  ^mony  folk  surmise  that  the  Earl's  no 
very  right  in  the  judgment,  and  wha  can  say  how  far 
he  may  be  offended  wi'  me  for  taking  upon  me  sae 
muckle? ' 

But  there  was  now  no  room  for  retreat :  a  bell  sounded 
from  a  distant  part  of  the  mansion,  and  Macraw  said, 
with  a  smothered  accent,  as  if  already  in  his  master's 
presence,  'That's  my  lord's  bell!  follow  me,  and  step 
lightly  and  cannily,  Edie.' 

Edie  followed  his  guide,  who  seemed  to  tread  as  if 
afraid  of  being  overheard,  through  a  long  passage  and 
up  a  backstair,  which  admitted  them  into  the  family 
apartments.  They  were  ample  and  extensive,  furnished 
at  such  cost  as  showed  the  ancient  importance  and 
splendour  of  the  family.  But  all  the  ornaments  were  in 
the  taste  of  a  former  and  distant  period,  and  one  would 
have  almost  supposed  himself  traversing  the  halls  of  a 
Scottish  nobleman  before  the  union  of  the  crowns.  The 
late  Countess,  partly  from  a  haughty  contempt  of  the 
times  in  which  she  lived,  partly  from  her  sense  of  fam- 
ily pride,  had  not  permitted  the  furniture  to  be  altered 
or  modernised  during  her  residence  at  Glenallan  House. 
The  most  magnificent  part  of  the  decorations  was  a 
5  369 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


valuable  collection  of  pictures  by  the  best  masters, 
whose  massive  frames  were  somewhat  tarnished  by 
time.  In  this  particular  also  the  gloomy  taste  of  the 
family  seemed  to  predominate.  There  were  some  fine 
family  portraits  by  Vandyke  and  other  masters  of  emi- 
nence; but  the  collection  was  richest  in  the  Saints  and 
Martydoms  of  Domenichino,  Velasquez,  and  Murillo, 
and  other  subjects  of  the  same  kind,  which  had  been 
selected  in  preference  to  landscapes  or  historical  pieces. 
The  manner  in  which  these  awful,  and  sometimes  dis- 
gusting, subjects  were  represented  harmonised  with  the 
gloomy  state  of  the  apartments;  a  circumstance  which 
was  not  altogether  lost  on  the  old  man,  as  he  traversed 
them  under  the  guidance  of  his  quondam  fellow-soldier. 
He  was  about  to  express  some  sentiment  of  this  kind, 
but  Francie  imposed  silence  on  him  by  signs,  and,  open- 
ing a  door  at  the  end  of  the  long  picture  gallery,  ushered 
him  into  a  small  antechamber  hung  with  black.  Here 
they  found  the  almoner,  with  his  ear  turned  to  a  door 
opposite  that  by  which  they  entered,  in  the  attitude  of 
one  who  Kstens  with  attention,  but  is  at  the  same  time 
afraid  of  being  detected  in  the  act. 

The  old  domestic  and  churchman  started  when  they 
perceived  each  other.  But  the  almoner  first  recovered 
his  recollection,  and,  advancing  towards  Macraw,  said 
under  his  breath,  but  with  an  authoritative  tone,  ^How 
dare  you  approach  the  Earl 's  apartment  without  knock- 
ing? and  who  is  this  stranger,  or  what  has  he  to  do  here? 
Retire  to  the  gallery,  and  wait  for  me  there.' 

*It's  impossible  just  now  to  attend  your  reverence,' 
answered  Macraw,  raising  his  voice  so  as  to  be  heard 
in  the  next  room,  being  conscious  that  the  priest 


370 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

would  not  maintain  the  altercation  within  hearing  of  his 
patron;  Hhe  Earl's  bell  has  rung/ 

He  had  scarce  uttered  the  words  when  it  was  rung 
again  with  greater  violence  than  before;  and  the  ec- 
clesiastic, perceiving  further  expostulation  impossible, 
lifted  his  finger  at  Macraw  with  a  menacing  attitude, 
as  he  left  the  apartment. 

*I  tell'd  ye  sae/  said  the  Aberdeen  man  in  a  whisper 
to  Edie,  and  then  proceeded  to  open  the  door  near 
which  they  had  observed  the  chaplain  stationed. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 


This  ring  — 
This  little  ring,  with  necromantic  force, 
Has  raised  the  ghost  of  Pleasure  to  my  fears, 
Conjured  the  sense  of  honour  and  of  love 
Into  such  shapes,  they  fright  me  from  myself. 

The  Fatal  Marriage. 

The  ancient  forms  of  mourning  were  observed  in  Glen- 
allan  House,  notwithstanding  the  obduracy  with  which 
the  members  of  the  family  were  popularly  supposed  to 
refuse  to  the  dead  the  usual  tribute  of  lamentation.  It 
was  remarked,  that  when  she  received  the  fatal  letter 
announcing  the  death  of  her  second,  and,  as  was  once 
believed,  her  favourite  son,  the  hand  of  the  Countess 
did  not  shake  nor  her  eyelid  twinkle,  any  more  than 
upon  perusal  of  a  letter  of  ordinary  business.  Heaven 
only  knows  whether  the  suppression  of  maternal  sorrow 
which  her  pride  commanded  might  not  have  some  effect 
in  hastening  her  own  death.  It  was  at  least  generally 
supposed  that  the  apoplectic  stroke  which  so  soon 
afterwards  terminated  her  existence  was,  as  it  were, 
the  vengeance  of  outraged  nature  for  the  restraint  to 
which  her  feelings  had  been  subjected.  But,  although 
Lady  Glenallan  forbore  the  usual  external  signs  of 
grief,  she  had  caused  many  of  the  apartments,  amongst 
others  her  own  and  that  of  the  Earl,  to  be  hung  with 
the  exterior  trappings  of  woe. 

The  Earl  of  Glenallan  was  therefore  seated  in  an 
apartment  hung  with  black  cloth,  which  waved  in  dusky 

372 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


folds  along  its  lofty  walls.  A  screen,  also  covered  with 
black  baize,  placed  towards  the  high  and  narrow  win- 
dow, intercepted  much  of  the  broken  light  which  found 
its  way  through  the  stained  glass,  that  represented,  with 
such  skill  as  the  fourteenth  century  possessed,  the  hfe 
and  sorrows  of  the  prophet  Jeremiah.  The  table  at 
which  the  Earl  was  seated  was  lighted  with  two  lamps 
wrought  in  silver,  shedding  that  unpleasant  and  doubt- 
ful Ught  which  arises  from  the  mingling  of  artificial 
lustre  with  that  of  general  daylight.  The  same  table 
displayed  a  silver  crucifix  and  one  or  two  clasped 
parchment  books.  A  large  picture,  exquisitely  painted 
by  Spagnoletto,  represented  the  martyrdom  of  St. 
Stephen,  and  was  the  only  ornament  of  the  apartment. 

The  inhabitant  and  lord  of  this  disconsolate  chamber 
was  a  man  not  past  the  prime  of  hfe,  yet  so  broken  down 
with  disease  and  mental  misery,  so  gaunt  and  ghastly, 
that  he  appeared  but  a  wreck  of  manhood;  and  when 
he  hastily  arose  and  advanced  towards  his  visitor  the 
exertion  seemed  almost  to  overpower  his  emaciated 
frame.  As  they  met  in  the  midst  of  the  apartment, 
the  contrast  they  exhibited  was  very  striking.  The 
hale  cheek,  firm  step,  erect  stature,  and  undaunted 
presence  and  bearing  of  the  old  mendicant,  indicated 
patience  and  content  in  the  extremity  of  age,  and  in 
the  lowest  condition  to  which  humanity  can  sink;  while 
the  sunken  eye,  palHd  cheek,  and  tottering  form  of  the 
nobleman  with  whom  he  was  confronted,  showed  how 
little  wealth,  power,  and  even  the  advantages  of  youth, 
have  to  do  with  that  which  gives  repose  to  the  mind  and 
firmness  to  the  frame. 

The  Earl  met  the  old  man  in  the  middle  of  the  room, 


373 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


and,  having  commanded  his  attendant  to  withdraw 
into  the  gallery,  and  suffer  no  one  to  enter  the  ante- 
chamber till  he  rung  the  bell,  awaited,  with  hurried  yet 
fearful  impatience,  until  he  heard  first  the  door  of  his 
apartment,  and  then  that  of  the  antechamber  shut  and 
fastened  by  the  spring-bolt.  When  he  was  satisfied  with 
this  security  against  being  overheard.  Lord  Glenallan 
came  close  up  to  the  mendicant,  whom  he  probably  mis- 
took for  some  person  of  a  reHgious  order  in  disguise,  and 
said,  in  a  hasty  yet  faltering  tone,  ^In  the  name  of  all 
our  religion  holds  most  holy,  tell  me,  reverend  father, 
what  am  I  to  expect  from  a  communication  opened  by 
a  token  coimected  with  such  horrible  recollections?* 

The  old  man,  appalled  by  a  manner  so  different  from 
what  he  had  expected  from  the  proud  and  powerful  no- 
bleman, was  at  a  loss  how  to  answer,  and  in  what  man- 
ner to  undeceive  him.  ^Tell  me,'  continued  the  Earl,  in 
a  tone  of  increasing  trepidation  and  agony  —  Hell  me, 
do  you  come  to  say  that  all  that  has  been  done  to  ex- 
piate guilt  so  horrible  has  been  too  little  and  too  trivial 
for  the  offence,  and  to  point  out  new  and  more  effica- 
cious modes  of  severe  penance?  I  will  not  blench  from 
it,  father;  let  me  suffer  the  pains  of  my  crime  here  in  the 
body,  rather  than  hereafter  in  the  spirit!' 

Edie  had  now  recollection  enough  to  perceive  that, 
if  he  did  not  interrupt  the  frankness  of  Lord  Glenallan's 
admissions,  he  was  likely  to  become  the  confidant  of 
more  than  might  be  safe  for  him  to  know.  He  therefore 
uttered  with  a  hasty  and  trembling  voice  —  *Your 
lordship's  honour  is  mistaken:  I  am  not  of  your  persua- 
sion nor  a  clergyman,  but,  with  all  reverence,  only  puir 
Edie  Ochiltree,  the  king's  bedesman  and  your  honour's.' 


374 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

This  explanation  he  accompanied  by  a  profound  bow 
after  his  manner,  and  then,  drawing  himself  up  erect, 
rested  his  arm  on  his  staff,  threw  back  his  long  white 
hair,  and  fixed  his  eyes  upon  the  Earl,  as  he  waited  for 
an  answer. 

'And  you  are  not,  then,^  said  Lord  Glenallan,  after  a 
pause  of  surprise  —  'you  are  not  then  a  Catholic  priest?* 

'God  forbid!'  said  Edie,  forgetting  in  his  confusion 
to  whom  he  was  speaking;  'I  am  only  the  king's  bedes- 
man and  your  honour's,  as  I  said  before.' 

The  Earl  turned  hastily  away  and  paced  the  room 
twice  or  thrice,  as  if  to  recover  the  effects  of  his  mistake, 
and  then,  coming  close  up  to  the  mendicant,  he  de- 
manded, in  a  stern  and  commanding  tone,  what  he 
meant  by  intruding  himself  on  his  privacy,  and  from 
whence  he  had  got  the  ring  which  he  had  thought 
proper  to  send  him.  Edie,  a  man  of  much  spirit,  was  less 
daunted  at  this  mode  of  interrogation  than  he  had  been 
confused  by  the  tone  of  confidence  in  which  the  Earl 
had  opened  their  conversation.  To  the  reiterated  ques- 
tion from  whom  he  had  obtained  the  ring,  he  answered 
composedly,  'From  one  who  was  better  known  to  the 
Earl  than  to  him.' 

'Better  known  to  me,  fellow?'  said  Lord  Glenallan; 
'what  is  your  meaning?  Explain  yourself  instantly,  or 
you  shall  experience  the  consequence  of  breaking  in 
upon  the  hours  of  family  distress.' 

'It  was  auld  Elspeth  Mucklebackit  that  sent  me  here/ 
said  the  beggar,  'in  order  to  say  — ' 

'You  dote,  old  man!'  said  the  Earl;  'I  never  heard 
the  name;  but  this  dreadful  token  reminds  me  — ' 

'I  mind  now,  my  lord,'  said  Ochiltree;  'she  tauld  me 

375  . 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


your  lordship  would  be  mair  familiar  wi'  her  if  I  ca'd 
her  Elspeth  o'  the  Craigburnfoot.  She  had  that  name 
when  she  lived  on  your  honour's  land,  that  is,  your 
honour's  worshipful  mother's  that  was  then.  Grace  be 
wi'  her!' 

^  Ay,'  said  the  appalled  nobleman,  as  his  countenance 
sunk,  and  his  cheek  assumed  a  hue  yet  more  cadaver- 
ous, Hhat  name  is  indeed  written  in  the  most  tragic 
page  of  a  deplorable  history.  But  what  can  she  desire 
of  me?  Is  she  dead  or  living?' 

^Living,  my  lord;  and  entreats  to  see  your  lordship 
before  she  dies,  for  she  has  something  to  communicate 
that  hangs  upon  her  very  soul,  and  she  says  she  canna 
flit  in  peace  until  she  sees  you.' 

'Not  until  she  sees  me!  what  can  that  mean?  but  she 
is  doting  with  age  and  infirmity.  I  tell  thee,  friend,  I 
called  at  her  cottage  myself,  not  a  twelvemonth  since, 
from  a  report  that  she  was  in  distress,  and  she  did  not 
even  know  my  face  or  voice.' 

'If  your  honour  wad  permit  me,'  said  Edie,  to  whom 
the  length  of  the  conference  restored  a  part  of  his  pro- 
fessional audacity  and  native  talkativeness  —  'if  your 
honour  wad  but  permit  me,  I  wad  say,  under  correction 
of  your  lordship's  better  judgment,  that  auld  Elspeth 's 
like  some  of  the  ancient  ruined  strengths  and  castles 
that  ane  sees  amang  the  hills.  There  are  mony  parts  of 
her  mind  that  appear,  as  I  may  say,  laid  waste  and  de- 
cayed, but  then  there's  parts  that  look  the  steever  and 
the  stronger  and  the  grander  because  they  are  rising 
just  hke  to  fragments  amang  the  ruins  o'  the  rest.  She 's 
an  awful  woman. ' 

'She  always  was  so,'  said  the  Earl,  almost  uncon- 

376 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

sciously  echoing  the  observation  of  the  mendicant  — 
'she  always  was  different  from  other  women,  Hkest  per- 
haps to  her  who  is  now  no  more  in  her  temper  and  turn 
of  mind.  She  wishes  to  see  me,  then?' 

*  Before  she  dies/  said  Edie,  'she  earnestly  entreats 
that  pleasure.' 

'It  will  be  a  pleasure  to  neither  of  us,'  said  the  Earl, 
sternly,  'yet  she  shall  be  gratified.  She  hves,  I  think, 
on  the  seashore  to  the  southward  of  Fairport?' 

'Just  between  Monkbarns  and  Knockwinnock  Cas- 
tle, but  nearer  to  Monkbarns.  Your  lordship 's  honour 
will  ken  the  Laird  and  Sir  Arthur,  doubtless?' 

A  stare,  as  if  he  did  not  comprehend  the  question, 
was  Lord  Glenallan's  answer.  Edie  saw  his  mind  was 
elsewhere,  and  did  not  venture  to  repeat  a  query  which 
was  so  little  germain  to  the  matter. 

'Are  you  a  Catholic,  old  man?'  demanded  the  Earl. 

'No,  my  lord,'  said  Ochiltree,  stoutly,  for  the  remem- 
brance of  the  unequal  division  of  the  dole  rose  in  his 
mind  at  the  moment;  'I  thank  Heaven  I  am  a  good 
Protestant.' 

'He  who  can  conscientiously  call  himself  good  has  in- 
deed reason  to  thank  Heaven,  be  his  form  of  Christian- 
ity what  it  will.  But  who  is  he  that  shall  dare  to  do 
so?' 

'Not  I,'  said  Edie:  'I  trust  to  beware  of  the  sin  of 
presumption.' 

'What  was  your  trade  in  your  youth?'  continued  the 
Earl. 

'A  soldier,  my  lord;  and  mony  a  sair  day's  kemping 
I 've  seen.  I  was  to  have  been  made  a  sergeant, 
but  —  ' 


377 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


*A  soldier!  then  you  have  slam  and  burnt,  and 
sacked  and  spoiled?' 

*I  winna  say/  replied  Edie,  'that  I  have  been  better 
than  my  neighbours:  it's  a  rough  trade;  war's  sweet 
to  them  that  never  tried  it/ 

'And  you  are  now  old  and  miserable,  asking  from 
precarious  charity  the  food  which  in  your  youth  you 
tore  from  the  hand  of  the  poor  peasant?' 

'I  am  a  beggar,  it  is  true,  my  lord;  but  I  am  nae  just 
sae  miserable  neither.  For  my  sins,  I  hae  had  grace  to 
repent  of  them,  if  I  might  say  sae,  and  to  lay  them  where 
they  may  be  better  borne  than  by  me;  and  for  my  food, 
naebody  grudges  an  auld  man  a  bit  and  a  drink.  Sae  I 
live  as  I  can,  and  am  contented  to  die  when  I  am  ca'd 
upon.' 

'And  thus,  then,  with  little  to  look  back  upon  that  is 
pleasant  or  praiseworthy  in  your  past  life,  with  less  to 
look  forward  to  on  this  side  of  eternity,  you  are  con- 
tented to  drag  out  the  rest  of  your  existence.  Go,  be- 
gone; and,  in  your  age  and  poverty  and  weariness,  never 
envy  the  lord  of  such  a  mansion  as  this,  either  in  his 
sleeping  or  waking  moments.  Here  is  something  for 
thee.' 

The  Earl  put  into  the  old  man's  hand  five  or  six 
guineas.  Edie  would,  perhaps,  have  stated  his  scruples, 
as  upon  other  occasions,  to  the  amount  of  the  benefac- 
tion, but  the  tone  of  Lord  Glenallan  was  too  absolute 
to  admit  of  either  answer  or  dispute.  The  Earl  then 
called  his  servant.  '  See  this  old  man  safe  from  the  cas- 
tle, let  no  one  ask  him  any  questions;  and  you,  friend, 
begone,  and  forget  the  road  that  leads  to  my  house.' 

'That  would  be  difficult  for  me,'  said  Edie,  looking  at 

378 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

the  gold  which  he  still  held  in  his  hand  —  'that  would 
be  e'en  difficult,  since  your  honour  has  gien  me  such  gude 
cause  to  remember  it/ 

Lord  Glenallan  stared,  as  hardly  comprehending  the 
old  man's  boldness  in  daring  to  bandy  words  with  him, 
and  with  his  hand  made  him  another  signal  of  depart- 
ure, which  the  mendicant  instantly  obeyed. 


CHAPTER  XXIX 


For  he  was  one  in  all  their  idle  sport, 
And,  like  a  monarch,  ruled  their  little  court; 
The  pliant  bow  he  form'd,  the  flying  ball, 
The  bat,  the  wicket,  were  his  labours  all. 

Crabbe's  Village. 

Francis  Macraw,  agreeably  to  the  commands  of  his 
master,  attended  the  mendicant,  in  order  to  see  him 
fairly  out  of  the  estate  without  permitting  him  to  have 
conversation  or  intercourse  with  any  of  the  Earl's 
dependents  or  domestics.  But,  judiciously  considering 
that  the  restriction  did  not  extend  to  himself,  who  was 
the  person  entrusted  with  the  convoy,  he  used  every 
measure  in  his  power  to  extort  from  Edie  the  nature 
of  his  confidential  and  secret  interview  with  Lord  Glen- 
allan.  But  Edie  had  been  in  his  time  accustomed  to 
cross-examinations,  and  easily  evaded  those  of  his  quon- 
dam comrade.  ^The  secrets  of  grit  folk,'  said  Ochiltree 
within  himself,  ^are  just  like  the  wild  beasts  that  are 
shut  up  in  cages.  Keep  them  hard  and  fast  snecked  up, 
and  it's  a'  very  weel  or  better;  but  anes  let  them  out, 
they  will  turn  and  rend  you.  I  mind  how  ill  Dugald 
Gunn  cam  aff  for  letting  loose  his  tongue  about  the 
Major's  leddy  and  Captain  Bandilier.' 

Francie  was  therefore  foiled  in  his  assaults  upon  the 
fidelity  of  the  mendicant,  and,  like  an  indifferent  chess- 
player, became  at  every  unsuccessful  movement  more 
liable  to  the  counter-checks  of  his  opponent. 

380 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

*Sae  ye  uphauld  ye  had  nae  particulars  to  say  to  my 
lord  but  about  your  ain  matters?' 

'Ay,  and  about  the  wee  bits  o'  things  I  had  brought 
frae  abroad/  said  Edie.  *I  kend  you  papist  folk  are 
unco  set  on  the  relics  that  are  fetched  frae  far  —  kirks 
and  sae  forth/ 

'Troth,  my  lord  maun  be  turned  feel  outright,'  said 
the  domestic,  'an  he  puts  himsell  into  sic  a  curfuiffle  for 
ony  thing  ye  could  bring  him,  Edie.' 

'I  doubtna  ye  may  say  true  in  the  main,  neighbour,' 
replied  the  beggar;  'but  maybe  he's  had  some  hard  play 
in  his  younger  days,  Francie,  and  that  whiles  unsettles 
folk  sair.' 

'Troth,  Edie,  and  ye  may  say  that;  and  since  it's 
like  ye '11  ne'er  come  back  to  the  estate,  or,  if  ye  dee, 
that  ye '11  no  find  me  there,  I'se  e'en  tell  you  he  had  a 
heart  in  his  young  time  sae  wrecked  and  rent  that  it's 
a  wonder  it  hasna  broken  outright  lang  afore  this  day.' 

'Ay,  say  ye  sae?'  said  Ochiltree;  'that  maun  hae 
been  about  a  woman,  I  reckon?' 

'Troth,  and  ye  hae  guessed  it,'  said  Francie,  'jeest  a 
cusin  o'  his  nain.  Miss  Eveline  Neville,  as  they  suld  hae 
ca'd  her;  there  was  a  sough  in  the  country  about  it,  but 
it  was  hushed  up,  as  the  grandees  were  concerned.  It's 
mair  than  twenty  years  syne;  ay,  it  will  be  three-and- 
twenty.' 

'Ay,  I  was  in  America  then,'  said  the  mendicant, 
^and  no  in  the  way  to  hear  the  country  clashes.' 

'There  was  little  clash  about  it,  man,'  replied  Macraw; 
'he  liked  this  young  leddy,  and  suld  hae  married  her, 
but  his  mother  fand  it  out,  and  then  the  deil  gaed  o'er 
Jock  Wabster.  At  last  the  peer  lass  clodded  hersell  o'er 

381 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


the  scaur  at  the  Craigburnfoot  into  the  sea,  and  there 
was  an  end  o't/ 

*An  end  o't  wi'  the  puir  leddy/  said  the  mendicant, 
^but,  as  I  rackon,  nae  end  o't  wi'  the  yerV 

^Nae  end  o't  till  his  life  makes  an  end,'  answered  the 
Aberdonian. 

'But  what  for  did  the  auld  Countess  forbid  the  mar- 
riage?' continued  the  persevering  querist. 

*Fat  for?  she  maybe  didna  weel  ken  for  fat  hersell,  for 
she  gar'd  a'  bow  to  her  bidding,  right  or  wrang.  But  it 
was  kend  the  young  leddy  was  inclined  to  some  o'  the 
heresies  of  the  country;  mair  by  token,  she  was  sib  to 
him  nearer  than  our  Church's  rule  admits  of.  Sae  the 
leddy  was  driven  to  the  desperate  act,  and  the  yerl  has 
never  since  held  his  head  up  like  a  man/ 

'Weel  away!'  replied  Ochiltree;  'it's  e'en  queer  I  ne'er 
heard  this  tale  afore.' 

'It's  e'en  queer  that  ye  hear  it  now,  for  deil  ane  o' 
the  servants  durst  hae  spoken  o't  had  the  auld  Count- 
ess been  hving.  Eh!  man,  Edie,  but  she  was  a  trimmer, 
it  wad  hae  taen  a  skeely  man  to  hae  squared  wi'  her! 
But  she's  in  her  grave,  and  we  may  loose  our  tongues  a 
bit  fan  we  meet  a  friend.  But  fare  ye  weel,  Edie,  I 
maim  be  back  to  the  evening  service.  An  ye  come  to 
Inverurie  may  be  sax  months  awa,  dinna  forget  to  ask 
after  Francie  Macraw. ' 

What  one  kindly  pressed  the  other  as  firmly  pro- 
mised; and  the  friends  having  thus  parted  with  every 
testimony  of  mutual  regard,  the  domestic  of  Lord  Glen- 
allan  took  his  road  back  to  the  seat  of  his  master,  leav- 
ing Ochiltree  to  trace  onward  his  habitual  pilgrimage. 

It  was  a  fine  summer  evening,  and  the  world,  that  is, 
382 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

the  little  circle  which  was  all  in  all  to  the  individual  by 
whom  it  was  trodden,  lay  before  Edie  Ochiltree,  for  the 
choosing  of  his  night's  quarters.  When  he  had  passed 
the  less  hospitable  domains  of  Glenallan,  he  had  in  his 
option  so  many  places  of  refuge  for  the  evening  that  he 
was  nice  and  even  fastidious  in  the  choice.  Ailie  Sim's 
public  was  on  the  roadside  about  a  mile  before  him;  but 
there  would  be  a  parcel  of  young  fellows  there  on  the 
Saturday  night,  and  that  was  a  bar  to  civil  conversa- 
tion. Other  ^gudemen'  and  ^gudewives/  as  the  farmers 
and  their  dames  are  termed  in  Scotland,  successively 
presented  themselves  to  his  imagination.  But  one  was 
deaf,  and  could  not  hear  him;  another  toothless,  and 
could  not  make  him  hear;  a  third  had  a  cross  temper; 
and  a  fourth  an  ill-natured  housedog.  At  Monkbarns 
or  Knockwinnock  he  was  sure  of  a  favourable  and  hos- 
pitable reception;  but  they  lay  too  distant  to  be  con- 
veniently reached  that  night. 

'I  dinna  ken  how  it  is,'  said  the  old  man,  'but  I  am 
nicer  about  my  quarters  this  night  than  ever  I  mind 
having  been  in  my  life.  I  think  having  seen  a'  the  braws 
yonder,  and  finding  out  ane  may  be  happier  without 
them,  has  made  me  proud  o'  my  ain  lot;  but  I  wuss  it 
bode  me  gude,  for  pride  goeth  before  destruction.  At 
ony  rate,  the  warst  barn  e'er  man  lay  in  wad  be  a  pleas- 
anter  abode  than  Glenallan  House,  wi'  a'  the  pictures 
and  black  velvet  and  silver  bonnie  wawlies  belanging  to 
it.  Sae  I  '11  e'en  settle  at  ance  and  put  in  for  Ailie  Sim's.' 

As  the  old  man  descended  the  hill  above  the  Uttle 
hamlet  to  which  he  was  bending  his  course,  the  setting 
sun  had  relieved  its  inmates  from  their  labour,  and  the 
young  men,  availing  themselves  of  the  fine  evening, 

383 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


were  engaged  in  the  sport  of  long-bowls  on  a  patch  of 
common,  while  the  women  and  elders  looked  on.  The 
shout,  the  laugh,  the  exclamations  of  winners  and  losers 
came  in  blended  chorus  up  the  path  which  Ochiltree  was 
descending,  and  awakened  in  his  recollection  the  days 
when  he  himself  had  been  a  keen  competitor,  and  fre- 
quently victor,  in  games  of  strength  and  agility.  These 
remembrances  seldom  fail  to  excite  a  sigh,  even  when 
the  evening  of  life  is  cheered  by  brighter  prospects  than 
those  of  our  poor  mendicant.  *  At  that  time  of  day,'  was 
his  natural  reflection,  'I  would  have  thought  as  little 
about  ony  auld  palmering  body  that  was  coming  down 
the  edge  of  Kinblythemont  as  ony  o'  thae  stalwart 
young  chiels  does  e'enow  about  auld  Edie  Ochiltree.^ 

He  was,  however,  presently  cheered  by  finding  that 
more  importance  was  attached  to  his  arrival  than  his 
modesty  had  anticipated.  A  disputed  cast  had  occurred 
between  the  bands  of  players,  and,  as  the  ganger  fav- 
oured the  one  party  and  the  schoolmaster  the  other,  the 
matter  might  be  said  to  be  taken  up  by  the  higher  pow- 
ers. The  miller  and  smith  also  had  espoused  different 
sides,  and,  considering  the  vivacity  of  two  such  disput- 
ants, there  was  reason  to  doubt  whether  the  strife 
might  be  amicably  terminated.  But  the  first  person 
who  caught  a  sight  of  the  mendicant  exclaimed,  ^Ah! 
here  comes  auld  Edie,  that  kens  the  rules  of  a'  country 
games  better  than  ony  man  that  ever  drave  a  bowl  or 
threw  an  axle-tree,  or  putted  a  stane  either.  Let's  hae 
nae  quarrelling,  callants;  we'll  stand  by  auld  Edie's 
judgment.' 

Edie  was  accordingly  welcomed  and  installed  as  um- 
pire with  a  general  shout  of  gratulation.  With  all  the 

384 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

modesty  of  a  bishop  to  whom  the  mitre  is  proffered,  or 
of  a  new  Speaker  called  to  the  chair,  the  old  man  de- 
clined the  high  trust  and  responsibility  with  which  it 
was  proposed  to  invest  him,  and  in  requital  for  his  self- 
denial  and  humility  had  the  pleasure  of  receiving  the  re- 
iterated assurances  of  young,  old,  and  middle-aged  that 
he  was  simply  the  best  qualified  person  for  the  office  of 
arbiter  ^in  the  haill  country-side.'  Thus  encouraged,  he 
proceeded  gravely  to  the  execution  of  his  duty,  and, 
strictly  forbidding  all  aggravating  expressions  on  either 
side,  he  heard  the  smith  and  ganger  on  one  side,  the 
miller  and  schoolmaster  on  the  other,  as  junior  and 
senior  counsel.  Edie's  mind,  however,  was  fully  made 
up  on  the  subject  before  the  pleading  began,  like  that 
of  many  a  judge,  who  must  nevertheless  go  through  all 
the  forms,  and  endure  in  its  full  extent  the  eloquence 
and  argumentation  of  the  bar.  For  when  all  had  been 
said  on  both  sides,  and  much  of  it  said  over  oftener 
than  once,  our  senior,  being  well  and  ripely  advised, 
pronounced  the  moderate  and  healing  judgment  that 
the  disputed  cast  was  a  drawn  one,  and  should  therefore 
count  to  neither  party.  This  judicious  decision  restored 
concord  to  the  field  of  players;  they  began  anew  to  ar- 
range their  match  and  their  bets,  with  the  clamorous 
mirth  usual  on  such  occasions  of  village  sport,  and  the 
more  eager  were  already  stripping  their  jackets  and  com- 
mitting them,  with  their  coloured  handkerchiefs,  to  the 
care  of  wives,  sisters,  and  mistresses.  But  their  mirth 
was  singularly  interrupted. 

On  the  outside  of  the  group  of  players  began  to  arise 
sounds  of  a  description  very  different  from  those  of 
sport;  that  sort  of  suppressed  sigh  and  exclamation  with 

«  38s 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


which  the  first  news  of  calamity  is  received  by  the  hear- 
ers began  to  be  heard  indistinctly.  A  buzz  went  about 
among  the  women  of  'Eh,  sirs!  sae  young  and  sae  sud- 
denly summoned!^  It  then  extended  itself  among  the 
men,  and  silenced  the  sounds  of  sportive  mirth.  All 
understood  at  once  that  some  disaster  had  happened  in 
the  country,  and  each  inquired  the  cause  at  his  neigh- 
bour, who  knew  as  little  as  the  querist.  At  length  the 
rumour  reached  in  a  distinct  shape  the  ears  of  Edie 
Ochiltree,  who  was  in  the  very  centre  of  the  assembly. 
The  boat  of  Mucklebackit,  the  fisherman  whom  we  have 
so  often  mentioned,  had  been  swamped  at  sea,  and  four 
men  had  perished,  it  was  affirmed,  including  Muckle- 
backit and  his  son.  Rumour  had  in  this,  however,  as  in 
other  cases,  gone  beyond  the  truth.  The  boat  had  indeed 
been  overset;  but  Stephen,  or,  as  he  was  called,  Steenie 
Mucklebackit,  was  the  only  man  who  had  been  drowned. 
Although  the  place  of  his  residence  and  his  mode  of  life 
removed  the  young  man  from  the  society  of  the  country 
folks,  yet  they  failed  not  to  pause  in  their  rustic  mirth  to 
pay  that  tribute  to  sudden  calamity  which  it  seldom  fails 
to  receive  in  cases  of  infrequent  occurrence.  To  Ochil- 
tree, in  particular,  the  news  came  like  a  knell,  the  rather 
that  he  had  so  lately  engaged  this  young  man's  assist- 
ance in  an  affair  of  sportive  mischief ;  and,  though  neither 
loss  nor  injury  was  designed  to  the  German  adept,  yet 
the  work  was  not  precisely  one  in  which  the  latter  hours 
of  life  ought  to  be  occupied. 

Misfortunes  never  come  alone.  While  Ochiltree,  pen- 
sively leaning  upon  his  staff,  added  his  regrets  to  those 
of  the  hamlet  which  bewailed  the  young  man's  sudden 
death,  and  internally  blamed  himself  for  the  transac- 

386 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


tion  in  which  he  had  so  lately  engaged  him,  the  old  man's 
collar  was  seized  by  a  peace-officer,  who  displayed  his 
baton  in  his  right  hand  and  exclaimed,  ^In  the  king's 
name.' 

The  ganger  and  schoolmaster  united  their  rhetoric  to 
prove  to  the  constable  and  his  assistant  that  he  had  no 
right  to  arrest  the  king's  bedesman  as  a  vagrant;  and  the 
mute  eloquence  of  the  miller  and  smith,  which  was  vested 
in  their  clenched  fists,  was  prepared  to  give  Highland 
bail  for  their  arbiter;  ^his  blue  gown,'  they  said,  ^ was  his 
warrant  for  travelling  the  country.' 

^But  his  blue  gown,'  answered  the  officer,  ^is  nae  pro- 
tection for  assault,  robbery,  and  murder;  and  my  war- 
rant is  against  him  for  these  crimes.' 

*  Murder!'  said  Edie  —  ^murder!  wha  did  I  e'er  mur- 
der?' 

'Mr.  German  Doustercivil,  the  agent  at  Glen  Wither- 
shins  mining- works.' 

'Murder  Dustersnivel !  hout,  he's  living  and  life-like, 
man.' 

'Nae  thanks  to  you  if  he  be;  he  had  a  sair  struggle  for 
his  life,  if  a'  be  true  he  tells,  and  ye  maun  answer  for 't 
at  the  bidding  of  the  law.' 

The  defenders  of  the  mendicant  shrunk  back  at  hear- 
ing the  atrocity  of  the  charges  against  him,  but  more 
than  one  kind  hand  thrust  meat  and  bread  and  pence 
upon  Edie,  to  maintain  him  in  the  prison  to  which  the 
officers  were  about  to  conduct  him. 

'Thanks  to  ye,  God  bless  ye  a',  bairns!  I 've  gotten 
out  o'  mony  a  snare  when  I  was  waur  deserving  o'  deliv- 
erance; I  shall  escape  like  a  bird  from  the  fowler.  Play 
out  your  play  and  never  mind  me.  I  am  mair  grieved 

387 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


for  the  puir  lad  that's  gane  than  for  aught  they  can  do 
to  me.' 

Accordingly,  the  unresisting  prisoner  was  led  off,' 
while  he  mechanically  accepted  and  stored  in  his  wallets 
the  alms  which  poured  in  on  every  hand,  and  ere  he  left 
the  hamlet  was  as  deep-laden  as  a  government  victualler. 
The  labour  of  bearing  this  accumulating  burden  was, 
however,  abridged  by  the  officer  procuring  a  cart  and 
horse  to  convey  the  old  man  to  a  magistrate,  in  order  to 
his  examination  and  committal. 

The  disaster  of  Steenie  and  the  arrest  of  Edie  put  a 
stop  to  the  sports  of  the  village,  the  pensive  inhabitants 
of  which  began  to  speculate  upon  the  vicissitudes  of 
human  affairs,  which  had  so  suddenly  consigned  one  of 
their  comrades  to  the  grave  and  placed  their  master 
of  the  revels  in  some  danger  of  being  hanged.  The  char- 
acter of  Dousterswivel  being  pretty  generally  known, 
which  was  in  his  case  equivalent  to  being  pretty  gener- 
ally detested,  there  were  many  speculations  upon  the 
probability  of  the  accusation  being  malicious.  But  all 
agreed  that,  if  Edie  Ochiltree  behoved  in  all  events  to 
suffer  upon  this  occasion,  it  was  a  great  pity  he  had 
not  better  merited  his  fate  by  killing  Dousterswivel 
outright. 


CHAPTER  XXX 


Who  is  he?  One  that  for  the  lack  of  land 
Shall  fight  upon  the  water:  he  hath  challenged 
Formerly  the  grand  whale;  and  by  his  titles 
Of  Leviathan,  Behemoth,  and  so  forth. 
He  tilted  with  a  sword-fish.  Marry,  sir, 
Th'  aquatic  had  the  best:  the  argument 
Still  galls  our  champion's  breech, 

Old  Play. 

*  And  the  poor  young  fellow,  Steenie  Mucklebackit,  is  to 
be  buried  this  morning/  said  our  old  friend  the  Anti- 
quary, as  he  exchanged  his  quilted  nightgown  for  an  old- 
fashioned  black  coat  in  lieu  of  the  snuff-coloured  vest- 
ment which  he  ordinarily  wore;  ^and  I  presume  it  is 
expected  that  I  should  attend  the  funeral?* 

'Ou  ay,'  answered  the  faithful  Caxon,  officiously 
brushing  the  white  threads  and  specks  from  his  patron's 
habit;  Hhe  body,  God  help  us,  was  sae  broken  against 
the  rocks  that  they  're  fain  to  hurry  the  burial.  The  sea 's 
a  kittle  cast,  as  I  tell  my  daughter,  puir  thing,  when  I 
want  her  to  get  up  her  spirits : "  The  sea,"  says  I,  "Jenny, 
is  as  uncertain  a  calling  — " ' 

'As  the  calling  of  an  old  periwig-maker,  that's  robbed 
of  his  business  by  crops  and  the  powder- tax.  Caxon,  thy 
topics  of  consolation  are  as  ill  chosen  as  they  are  foreign 
to  the  present  purpose.  Quid  mihi  cum  fosmina?  What 
have  I  to  do  with  thy  womankind,  who  have  enough 
and  to  spare  of  mine  own?  I  pray  of  you  again,  am  I 
expected  by  these  poor  people  to  attend  the  funeral  of 
their  son?' 

'Ou,  doubtless  your  honour  is  expected,'  answered 
389 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


Caxon;  *weel  I  wot  ye  are  expected.  Ye  ken  in  this 
country  ilka  gentleman  is  wussed  to  be  sae  civil  as  to  see 
the  corpse  aff  his  grounds.  Ye  needna  gang  higher  than 
the  loan  head;  it's  no  expected  your  honour  suld  leave 
the  land;  it's  just  a  Kelso  convoy,  a  step  and  a  half  ower 
the  door-stane.' 

'A  Kelso  convoy!'  echoed  the  inquisitive  Antiquary; 
'and  why  a  Kelso  convoy  more  than  any  other?' 

'Dear  sir,'  answered  Caxon,  'how  should  I  ken?  it's 
just  a  bye-word.' 

'Caxon,'  answered  Oldbuck,  'thou  art  a  mere  periwig- 
maker.  Had  I  asked  Ochiltree  the  question,  he  would 
have  had  a  legend  ready  made  to  my  hand.' 

'My  business,'  replied  Caxon,  with  more  animation 
than  he  commonly  displayed,  'is  with  the  outside  of 
your  honour's  head,  as  ye  are  accustomed  to  say.' 

'True,  Caxon,  true;  and  it  is  no  reproach  to  a  thatcher 
that  he  is  not  an  upholsterer.' 

He  then  took  out  his  memorandum-book  and  wrote 
down:  'Kelso  convoy,  said  to  be  a  step  and  a  half  ower 
the  threshold.  Authority,  Caxon.  Quare,  Whence  de- 
rived? Mem,  To  write  to  Dr.  Graysteel  upon  the  sub- 
ject.' 

Having  made  this  entry,  he  resumed  —  'And  truly,  as 
to  this  custom  of  the  landlord  attending  the  body  of  the 
peasant,  I  approve  it,  Caxon.  It  comes  from  ancient 
times,  and  was  founded  deep  in  the  notions  of  mutual 
aid  and  dependence  between  the  lord  and  cultivator  of 
the  soil.  And  herein,  I  must  say,  the  feudal  system  — 
as  also  in  its  courtesy  towards  womankind,  in  which  it 
exceeded  —  herein,  I  say,  the  feudal  usages  mitigated 
and  softened  the  sternness  of  classical  times.  No  man, 


390 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


Caxon,  ever  heard  of  a  Spartan  attending  the  funeral  of 
a  helot;  yet  I  dare  be  sworn  that  John  of  the  Girnell  — 
ye  have  heard  of  him,  Caxon? ' 

^Ay,  ay,  sir,'  answered  Caxon;  'naebody  can  hae  been 
lang  in  your  honour's  company  without  hearing  of  that 
gentleman.' 

^  Well,'  continued  the  Antiquary,  'I  would  bet  a  trifle 
there  was  not  a  kolb  kerl,  or  bondsman,  or  peasant, 
ascriptus  glebcBy  died  upon  the  monks'  territories  down 
here  but  John  of  the  Girnell  saw  them  fairly  and  de- 
cently interred.' 

'Ay,  but  if  it  like  your  honour,  they  say  he  had  mair 
to  do  wi'  the  births  than  the  burials.  Ha !  ha !  ha ! '  with  a 
gleeful  chuckle. 

'Good,  Caxon!  very  good!  why,  you  shine  this  morn- 
ing.' 

'And  besides,'  added  Caxon,  slily,  encouraged  by  his 
patron's  approbation,  'they  say  too  that  the  Catholic 
priests  in  thae  times  gat  something  for  ganging  about  to 
burials.' 

'Right,  Caxon,  right  as  my  glove  —  by  the  by,  I 
fancy  that  phrase  comes  from  the  custom  of  pledging  a 
glove  as  the  signal  of  irrefragable  faith  —  right,  I  say,  as 
my  glove,  Caxon;  but  we  of  the  Protestant  ascendency 
have  the  more  merit  in  doing  that  duty  for  nothing 
which  cost  money  in  the  reign  of  that  empress  of  super- 
stition whom  Spenser,  Caxon,  terms  in  his  allegorical 
phrase, 

The  daughter  of  that  woman  blind, 
Abessa,  daughter  of  Corecca  slow. 

But  why  talk  I  of  these  things  to  thee?  My  poor  Lovel 
has  spoiled  me,  and  taught  me  to  speak  aloud  when  it  is 


391 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


much  the  same  as  speaking  to  myself.  Where's  my 
nephew,  Hector  Mlntyre?^ 

^He's  in  the  parlour,  sir,  wi'  the  leddies.' 

^Very  well,'  said  the  Antiquary,  *I  will  betake  me 
thither.' 

^Now,  Monkbarns,'  said  his  sister,  on  his  entering  the 
parlour,  *ye  maunna  be  angry.' 

'My  dear  uncle!'  began  Miss  M'Intyre. 

'What's  the  meaning  of  all  this?'  said  Oldbuck,  in 
alarm  of  some  impending  bad  news,  and  arguing  upon 
the  supplicating  tone  of  the  ladies,  as  a  fortress  appre- 
hends an  attack  from  the  very  first  flourish  of  the  trum- 
pet which  announces  the  summons  —  'what's  all  this? 
What  do  you  bespeak  my  patience  for? ' 

'No  particular  matter,  I  should  hope,  sir,'  said  Hec- 
tor, who,  with  his  arm  in  a  sling,  was  seated  at  the  break- 
fast-table; 'however,  whatever  it  may  amount  to,  I  am 
answerable  for  it,  as  I  am  for  much  more  trouble  that 
I  have  occasioned,  and  for  which  I  have  little  more 
than  thanks  to  offer.' 

'No,  no!  heartily  welcome,  heartily  welcome;  only  let 
it  be  a  warning  to  you,'  said  the  Antiquary,  'against 
your  fits  of  anger,  which  is  a  short  madness  —  Ira  furor 
brevis.  But  what  is  this  new  disaster?' 

'My  dog,  sir,  has  unfortunately  thrown  down  — ' 

'It  if  please  Heaven,  not  the  lachrymatory  from 
Clochnaben!'  interjected  Oldbuck. 

'Indeed,  uncle,'  said  the  young  lady,  'I  am  afraid  — 
it  was  that  which  stood  upon  the  sideboard;  the  poor 
thing  only  meant  to  eat  the  pat  of  fresh  butter.' 

'  In  which  she  has  fully  succeeded,  I  presume,  for  I  see 
that  on  the  table  is  salted.  But  that  is  nothing;  my 

392 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


lachrymatory,  the  main  pillar  of  my  theory,  on  which 
I  rested  to  show,  in  despite  of  the  ignorant  obstinacy 
of  Mac-Cribb,  that  the  Romans  had  passed  the  defiles 
of  these  mountains,  and  left  behind  them  traces  of  their 
arts  and  arms,  is  gone  —  annihilated  —  reduced  to  such 
fragments  as  might  be  the  shreds  of  a  broken  —  flower- 
pot! 

Hector,  I  love  thee, 
But  never  more  be  officer  of  mine.' 

*Why,  really,  sir,  I  am  afraid  I  should  make  a  bad 
figure  in  a  regiment  of  your  raising.' 

*At  least,  Hector,  I  would  have  you  despatch  your 
camp  train,  and  travel  expeditus  or  relictis  impedimentis. 
You  cannot  conceive  how  I  am  annoyed  by  this  beast* 
She  commits  burglary,  I  believe,  for  I  heard  her  charged 
with  breaking  into  the  kitchen  after  all  the  doors  were 
locked,  and  eating  up  a  shoulder  of  mutton.'  (Our 
readers,  if  they  chance  to  remember  Jenny  Rintherout's 
precaution  of  leaving  the  door  open  when  she  went  down 
to  the  fisher's  cottage,  will  probably  acquit  poor  Juno 
of  that  aggravation  of  guilt  which  the  lawyers  call  a 
claustrum  /regit,  and  which  makes  the  distinction  be- 
tween burglary  and  privately  stealing.) 

'I  am  truly  sorry,  sir,'  said  Hector,  ^that  Juno  has 
committed  so  much  disorder;  but  Jack  Muirhead,  the 
breaker,  was  never  able  to  bring  her  under  command. 
She  has  more  travel  than  any  bitch  I  ever  knew,  but  — * 

*Then,  Hector,  I  wish  the  bitch  would  travel  herself 
out  of  my  grounds.' 

^We  will  both  of  us  retreat  to-morrow,  or  to-day,  but 
I  would  not  willingly  part  from  my  mother's  brother 
in  unkindness  about  a  paltry  pipkin.' 


393 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


*0  brother,  brother!'  ejaculated  Miss  M'Intyre,  in 
utter  despair  at  this  vituperative  epithet. 

'Why,  what  would  you  have  me  call  it?'  continued 
Hector;  'it  was  just  such  a  thing  as  they  use  in  Egypt 
to  cool  wine  or  sherbet  or  water.  I  brought  home  a  pair 
of  them;  I  might  have  brought  home  twenty.' 

'What! 'said  Oldbuck, 'shaped  such  as  that  your 
dog  threw  down?' 

'Yes,  sir,  much  such  a  sort  of  earthen  jar  as  that 
which  was  on  the  sideboard.  They  are  in  my  lodgings  at 
Fairport;  we  brought  a  parcel  of  them  to  cool  our  wine 
on  the  passage;  they  answer  wonderfully  well.  If  I  could 
think  they  would  in  any  degree  repay  your  loss,  or  rather 
that  they  could  afford  you  pleasure,  I  am  sure  I  should 
be  much  honoured  by  your  accepting  them.' 

'Indeed,  my  dear  boy,  I  should  be  highly  gratified  by 
possessing  them.  To  trace  the  connexion  of  nations  by 
their  usages,  and  the  similarity  of  the  implements  which 
they  employ,  has  been  long  my  favourite  study.  Every- 
thing that  can  illustrate  such  connexions  is  most  valu- 
able to  me.' 

'Well,  sir,  I  shall  be  much  gratified  by  your  accept- 
ance of  them,  and  a  few  trifles  of  the  same  kind.  And 
now,  am  I  to  hope  you  have  forgiven  me?* 

'0,  my  dear  boy,  you  are  only  thoughtless  and  foolish.' 

'But  Juno,  she  is  only  thoughtless  too,  I  assure  you; 
the  breaker  tells  me  she  has  no  vice  or  stubbornness.' 

'Well,  I  grant  Juno  also  a  free  pardon  —  conditioned, 
that  you  will  imitate  her  in  avoiding  vice  and  stubborn- 
ness, and  that  henceforward  she  banish  herself  forth  of 
Monkbarns  parlour.' 

'Then,  uncle,'  said  the  soldier,  'I  should  have  been 

394 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

very  sorry  and  ashamed  to  propose  to  you  anything  in 
the  way  of  expiation  of  my  own  sins,  or  those  of  my  fol- 
lower, that  I  thought  worth  your  acceptance;  but  now,  as 
all  is  forgiven,  will  you  permit  the  orphan  nephew  to 
whom  you  have  been  a  father,  to  offer  you  a  trifle,  which 
I  have  been  assured  is  really  curious,  and  which  only  the 
cross  accident  of  my  wound  has  prevented  my  delivering 
to  you  before?  I  got  it  from  a  French  savant,  to  whom 
I  rendered  some  service  after  the  Alexandria  affair.' 

The  captain  put  a  small  ring-case  into  the  Antiquary's 
hands,  which,  when  opened,  was  found  to  contain  an 
antique  ring  of  massive  gold,  with  a  cameo,  most  beau- 
tifully executed,  bearing  a  head  of  Cleopatra.  The  Anti- 
quary broke  forth  into  unrepressed  ecstasy,  shook  his 
nephew  cordially  by  the  hand,  thanked  him  an  hundred 
times,  and  showed  the  ring  to  his  sister  and  niece,  the 
latter  of  whom  had  the  tact  to  give  it  sufficient  admira- 
tion; but  Miss  Griselda  (though  she  had  the  same  affec- 
tion for  her  nephew)  had  not  address  enough  to  follow 
the  lead. 

^It's  a  bonny  thing,'  she  said,  'Monkbarns,  and,  I 
daresay,  a  valuable;  but  it's  out  o'  my  way.  Ye  ken 
I  am  nae  judge  o'  sic  matters.' 

'There  spoke  all  Fairport  in  one  voice!'  exclaimed 
Oldbuck;  'it  is  the  very  spirit  of  the  borough  has  in- 
fected us  all:  I  think  I  have  smelled  the  smoke  these  two 
days  that  the  wind  has  stuck,  like  a  remora,  in  the  north- 
east, and  its  prejudices  fly  farther  than  its  vapours. 
Believe  me,  my  dear  Hector,  were  I  to  walk  up  the  High 
Street  of  Fairport,  displaying  this  inestimable  gem  in 
the  eyes  of  each  one  I  met,  no  human  creature,  from  the 
provost  to  the  town-crier,  would  stop  to  ask  me  its 

395 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


history.  But  if  I  carried  a  bale  of  linen  cloth  under 
my  arm,  I  could  not  penetrate  to  the  Horsemarket  ere 
I  should  be  overwhelmed  with  queries  about  its  precise 
texture  and  price.  O,  one  might  parody  their  brutal 
ignorance  in  the  words  of  Gray:  — 

Weave  the  warp  and  weave  the  woof, 
The  winding-sheet  of  wit  and  sense, 

Dull  garment  of  defensive  proof, 

'Gainst  all  that  doth  not  gather  pence.' 

The  most  remarkable  proof  of  this  peace-offering  being 
quite  acceptable  was  that,  while  the  Antiquary  was  in 
full  declamation,  Juno,  who  held  him  in  awe,  according 
to  the  remarkable  instinct  by  which  dogs  instantly  dis- 
cover those  who  like  or  dislike  them,  had  peeped  several 
times  into  the  room,  and,  encountering  nothing  very 
forbidding  in  his  aspect,  had  at  length  presumed  to  intro- 
duce her  full  person,  and  finally,  becoming  bold  by  im- 
punity, she  actually  ate  up  Mr.  Oldbuck's  toast,  as, 
looking  first  at  one  then  at  another  of  his  audience,  he 
repeated  with  self-complacency, 

'Weave  the  warp  and  weave  the  woof,  — 

You  remember  the  passage  in  the  "  Fatal  Sisters,*'  which, 
by  the  way,  is  not  so  fine  as  in  the  original.  But,  hey-day ! 
my  toast  has  vanished !  I  see  which  way.  Ah,  thou  type 
of  womankind,  no  wonder  they  take  offence  at  thy  gen- 
eric appellation!'  (So  saying,  he  shook  his  fist  at  Juno, 
who  scoured  out  of  the  parlour.)  ^However,  as  Jupiter, 
according  to  Homer,  could  not  rule  Juno  in  heaven,  and 
as  Jack  Muirhead,  according  to  Hector  M'Intyre,  has 
been  equally  unsuccessful  on  earth,  I  suppose  she  must 
have  her  own  way.'  And  this  mild  censure  the  brother 

396 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

and  sister  justly  accounted  a  full  pardon  for  Juno's 
offences,  and  sate  down  well  pleased  to  the  morning 
meal. 

When  breakfast  was  over  the  Antiquary  proposed  to 
his  nephew  to  go  down  with  him  to  attend  the  funeral. 
The  soldier  pleaded  the  want  of  a  mourning  habit. 

that  does  not  signify;  your  presence  is  all  that  is 
requisite.  I  assure  you,  you  will  see  something  that  will 
entertain  —  no,  that's  an  improper  phrase  —  but  that 
will  interest  you,  from  the  resemblances  which  I  will 
point  out  betwixt  popular  customs  on  such  occasions 
and  those  of  the  ancients.' 

'Heaven  forgive  me!'  thought  M'Intyre;  'I  shall 
certainly  misbehave,  and  lose  all  the  credit  I  have  so 
lately  and  accidentally  gained.' 

When  they  set  out,  schooled  as  he  was  by  the  warning 
and  entreating  looks  of  his  sister,  the  soldier  made  his 
resolution  strong  to  give  no  offence  by  evincing  inatten- 
tion or  impatience.  But  our  best  resolutions  are  frail 
when  opposed  to  our  predominant  inclinations.  Our 
Antiquary,  to  leave  nothing  unexplained,  had  com- 
menced with  the  funeral  rites  of  the  ancient  Scandi- 
navians, when  his  nephew  interrupted  him  in  a  discus- 
sion upon  the  'age  of  hills,'  to  remark  that  a  large 
sea-gull  which  flitted  around  them  had  come  twice 
within  shot.  This  error  being  acknowledged  and  par- 
doned, Oldbuck  resumed  his  disquisition. 

'These  are  circumstances  you  ought  to  attend  to  and 
be  familiar  with,  my  dear  Hector;  for,  in  the  strange 
contingencies  of  the  present  war  which  agitates  every 
corner  of  Europe,  there  is  no  knowing  where  you  may 
be  called  upon  to  serve.  If  in  Norway,  for  example,  or 

397 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


Denmark,  or  any  part  of  the  ancient  Scania,  or  Scandi- 
navia, as  we  term  it,  what  could  be  more  convenient 
than  to  have  at  your  iBingers'  ends  the  history  and  an- 
tiquities of  that  ancient  country,  the  officina  gentium, 
the  mother  of  modern  Europe,  the  nursery  of  those 
heroes, 

Stern  to  inflict  and  stubborn  to  endure, 
Who  smiled  in  death? 

How  animating,  for  example,  at  the  conclusion  of  a 
weary  march,  to  find  yourself  in  the  vicinity  of  a  Runic 
monument,  and  discover  that  you  had  pitched  your 
tent  beside  the  tomb  of  a  hero!' 

*I  am  afraid,  sir,  our  mess  would  be  better  supplied  if 
it  chanced  to  be  in  the  neighbourhood  of  a  good  poultry- 
yard.' 

*  Alas,  that  you  should  say  so !  No  wonder  the  days  of 
Cressy  and  Agincourt  are  no  more,  when  respect  for 
ancient  valour  has  died  away  in  the  breasts  of  the 
British  soldiery.' 

^By  no  means,  sir  —  by  no  manner  of  means.  I  dare- 
say that  Edward  and  Henry,  and  the  rest  of  these 
heroes,  thought  of  their  dinner,  however,  before  they 
thought  of  examining  an  old  tombstone.  But  I  assure 
you  we  are  by  no  means  insensible  to  the  memory  of 
our  fathers'  fame;  I  used  often  of  an  evening  to  get  old 
Rory  M'Alpin  to  sing  us  songs  out  of  Ossian  about  the 
battles  of  Fingal  and  Lamon  Mor,  and  Magnus  and  the 
spirit  of  Muirartach.' 

'And  did  you  believe,'  asked  the  aroused  Antiquary 
—  'did  you  absolutely  believe  that  stuff  of  Macpher- 
son's  to  be  really  ancient,  you  simple  boy?* 

398 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

*  Believe  it,  sir?  how  could  I  but  believe  it,  when  I 
have  heard  the  songs  sung  from  my  infancy?' 

^But  not  the  same  as  Macpherson's  English  Ossian; 
you  're  not  absurd  enough  to  say  that,  I  hope? '  said  the 
Antiquary,  his  brow  darkening  with  wrath. 

But  Hector  stoutly  abode  the  storm;  like  many  a 
sturdy  Celt,  he  imagined  the  honour  of  his  country  and 
native  language  connected  with  the  authenticity  of 
these  popular  poems,  and  would  have  fought  knee-deep, 
or  forfeited  life  and  land,  rather  than  have  given  up  a 
line  of  them.  He  therefore  undauntedly  maintained  that 
Rory  M'Alpin  could  repeat  the  whole  book  from  one 
end  to  another;  and  it  was  only  upon  cross-examination 
that  he  explained  an  assertion  so  general  by  adding, 
*At  least,  if  he  was  allowed  whisky  enough,  he  could 
repeat  as  long  as  anybody  would  hearken  to  him.' 

*Ay,  ay,'  said  the  Antiquary; 'and  that,  I  suppose, 
was  not  very  long.' 

'Why,  we  had  our  duty,  sir,  to  attend  to,  and  could 
not  sit  listening  all  night  to  a  piper.' 

'But  do  you  recollect,  now,'  said  Oldbuck,  setting  his 
teeth  firmly  together,  and  speaking  without  opening 
them,  which  was  his  custom  when  contradicted  —  'do 
you  recollect,  now,  any  of  these  verses  you  thought  so 
beautiful  and  interesting,  being  a  capital  judge,  no 
doubt,  of  such  things?' 

'I  don't  pretend  to  much  skill,  uncle;  but  it's  not  very 
reasonable  to  be  angry  with  me  for  admiring  the  anti- 
quities of  my  own  country  more  than  those  of  the 
Harolds,  Harfagers,  and  Hacos  you  are  so  fond  of.' 

'Why,  these,  sir  —  these  mighty  and  unconquered 
Goths  —  were  your  ancestors!  The  bare-breeched  Celts 

399 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


whom  they  subdued,  and  suffered  only  to  exist,  like  a 
fearful  people,  in  the  crevices  of  the  rocks,  were  but  their 
mancipia  and  serfs!' 

Hector's  brow  now  grew  red  in  his  turn.  *  Sir,'  he  said, 
'I  don't  understand  the  meaning  of  mancipia  and  serfs, 
but  I  conceive  such  names  are  very  improperly  applied 
to  Scotch  Highlanders.  No  man  but  my  mother's  brother 
dared  to  have  used  such  language  in  my  presence;  and  I 
pray  you  will  observe  that  I  consider  it  as  neither  hospit- 
able, handsome,  kind,  nor  generous  usage  towards  your 
guest  and  your  kinsman.  My  ancestors,  Mr.  Oldbuck — ' 

*  Were  great  and  gallant  chiefs,  I  daresay,  Hector;  and 
really  I  did  not  mean  to  give  you  such  immense  offence 
in  treating  a  point  of  remote  antiquity,  a  subject  on 
which  I  always  am  myself  cool,  deliberate,  and  unim- 
passioned.  But  you  are  as  hot  and  hasty  as  if  you  were 
Hector  and  Achilles  and  Agamemnon  to  boot.' 

am  sorry  I  expressed  myself  so  hastily,  uncle, 
especially  to  you,  who  have  been  so  generous  and  good. 
But  my  ancestors  — ' 

'No  more  about  it,  lad;  I  meant  them  no  affront, 
none.' 

*  I  am  glad  of  it,  sir;  for  the  house  of  M'Intyre  — ' 
'Peace  be  with  them  all,  every  man  of  them,'  said  the 

Antiquary.  'But  to  return  to  our  subject.  Do  you 
recollect,  I  say,  any  of  those  poems  which  afforded  you 
such  amusement?' 

'  Very  hard  this,'  thought  M'Intyre,  *  that  he  will  speak 
with  such  glee  of  everything  which  is  ancient  excepting 
my  family.'  Then,  after  some  efforts  at  recollection,  he 
added  aloud,  'Yes,  sir,  I  think  I  do  remember  some  lines; 
but  you  do  not  understand  the  Gaelic  language.' 

400 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


*  And  will  readily  excuse  hearing  it.  But  you  can  give 
me  some  idea  of  the  sense  in  our  own  vernacular 
idiom?' 

shall  prove  a  wretched  interpreter/  said  M'Intyre, 
running  over  the  original,  well  garnished  with  ^aghes/ 
'aughs/  and  'oughs/  and  similar  gutturals,  and  then 
coughing  and  hawking  as  if  the  translation  stuck  in 
his  throat.  At  length,  having  premised  that  the  poem 
was  a  dialogue  between  the  poet  Oisin,  or  Ossian,  and 
Patrick,  the  tutelar  saint  of  Ireland,  and  that  it  was 
difficult,  if  not  impossible,  to  render  the  exquisite  felicity 
of  the  first  two  or  three  lines,  he  said  the  sense  was  to 
this  purpose:  — 

^Patrick  the  psalm-singer, 
Since  you  will  not  listen  to  one  of  my  stories, 
Though  you  never  heard  it  before, 
I  am  sorry  to  tell  you 
You  are  little  better  than  an  ass  — ' 

*Good!  good!'  exclaimed  the  Antiquary;  ^but  go  on. 
Why,  this  is,  after  all,  the  most  admirable  fooling;  I 
daresay  the  poet  was  very  right.  What  says  the  saint?' 

^He  replies  in  character,'  said  M'Intyre;  ^but  you 
should  hear  M'Alpin  sing  the  original.  The  speeches  of 
Ossian  come  in  upon  a  strong  deep  bass;  those  of  Patrick 
are  upon  a  tenor  key.' 

'Like  M'Alpin's  drone  and  small  pipes,  I  suppose/ 
said  Oldbuck.  'Well?  Pray,  go  on.' 

'Well  then,  Patrick  replies  to  Ossian:  — 

Upon  my  word,  son  of  Fingal, 
While  I  am  warbling  the  psalms, 
The  clamour  of  your  old  women's  tales 
Disturbs  my  devotional  exercises.' 


6  401 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


*  Excellent!  why,  this  is  better  and  better.  I  hope 
Saint  Patrick  sung  better  than  BlattergowFs  precentor, 
or  it  would  be  hang-choice  between  the  poet  and  psalmist. 
But  what  I  admire  is  the  courtesy  of  these  two  eminent 
persons  towards  each  other.  It  is  a  pity  there  should 
not  be  a  word  of  this  in  Macpherson's  translation.' 

*If  you  are  sure  of  that/  said  M'Intyre,  gravely,  'he 
must  have  taken  very  unwarrantable  liberties  with  his 
original,' 

*It  will  go  near  to  be  thought  so  shortly;  but  pray 
proceed.' 

*Then,'  said  M'Intyre,  Hhis  is  the  answer  of  Ossian: 

Dare  you  compare  your  psalms, 
You  son  of  a — ' 

*Son  of  a  what!'  exclaimed  Oldbuck. 
*It  means,  I  think,'  said  the  young  soldier,  with  some 
reluctance,  'son  of  a  female  dog:  — 

Do  you  compare  your  psalms 

To  the  tales  of  the  bare-arm'd  Fenians?' 

'Are  you  sure  you  are  translating  that  last  epithet 

correctly,  Hector?' 
'Quite  sure,  sir,'  answered  Hector,  doggedly, 
'Because  I  should  have  thought  the  nudity  might 

have  been  quoted  as  existing  in  a  different  part  of  the 

body.' 

Disdaining  to  reply  to  this  insinuation,  Hector  pro- 
ceeded in  his  recitation:  — 

*I  shall  think  it  no  great  harm 
To  wring  your  bald  head  from  your  shoulders  — 

But  what  is  that  yonder?'  exclaimed  Hector,  inter- 
rupting himself. 

402 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

*One  of  the  herd  of  Proteus,'  said  the  Antiquary,  'a 
phoca  or  seal  lying  asleep  on  the  beach/ 

Upon  which  M'Intyre,  with  the  eagerness  of  a  young 
sportsman,  totally  forgot  both  Ossian,  Patrick,  his 
uncle,  and  his  wound,  and  exclaiming,  'I  shall  have  her! 
I  shall  have  her!'  snatched  the  walking-stick  out  of  the 
hand  of  the  astonished  Antiquary,  at  some  risk  of  throw- 
ing him  down,  and  set  off  at  full  speed  to  get  between  the 
animal  and  the  sea,  to  which  element,  having  caught  the 
alarm,  she  was  rapidly  retreating. 

Not  Sancho,  when  his  master  interrupted  his  account 
of  the  combatants  of  Pentapolin  with  the  naked  arm  to 
advance  in  person  to  the  charge  of  the  flock  of  sheep, 
stood  more  confounded  than  Oldbuck  at  this  sudden 
escapade  of  his  nephew. 

'Is  the  devil  in  him,'  was  his  first  exclamation,  'to  go 
to  disturb  the  brute  that  was  never  thinking  of  him?' 
Then  elevating  his  voice,  'Hector,  nephew,  fool,  let 
alone  the  phoca  —  let  alone  the  phoca;  they  bite,  I  tell 
you,  like  furies.  He  minds  me  no  more  than  a  post; 
there  —  there  they  are  at  it.  Gad,  the  phoca  has  the 
best  of  it!  I  am  glad  to  see  it,'  said  he,  in  the  bitterness 
of  his  heart,  though  really  alarmed  for  his  nephew's 
safety  —  'I  am  glad  to  see  it,  with  all  my  heart  and 
spirit.' 

In  truth  the  seal,  finding  her  retreat  intercepted  by 
the  light-footed  soldier,  confronted  him  manfully,  and 
having  sustained  a  heavy  blow  without  injury,  she 
knitted  her  brows,  as  is  the  fashion  of  the  animal  when 
incensed,  and,  making  use  at  once  of  her  fore  paws  and 
her  unwieldy  strength,  wrenched  the  weapon  out  of  the 
assailant's  hand^  overturned  him  on  the  sands,  and 

403 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


scuttled  away  into  the  sea  without  doing  him  any  fur- 
ther injury.  Captain  M'Intyre,  a  good  deal  out  of 
countenance  at  the  issue  of  his  exploit,  just  rose  in  time 
to  receive  the  ironical  congratulations  of  his  uncle  upon 
a  single  combat  worthy  to  be  commemorated  by  Ossian 
himself,  'since,'  said  the  Antiquary,  'your  magnani- 
mous opponent  hath  fled,  though  not  upon  eagle's 
wings,  from  the  foe  that  was  low.  Egad,  she  walloped 
away  with  all  the  grace  of  triumph,  and  has  carried  my 
stick  off  also,  by  way  of  spolia  opima,' 

M'Intyre  had  little  to  answer  for  himself,  except  that 
a  Highlander  could  never  pass  a  deer,  a  seal,  or  a  salmon 
where  there  was  a  possibility  of  having  a  trial  of  skill 
with  them,  and  that  he  had  forgot  one  of  his  arms  was  in 
a  sling.  He  also  made  his  fall  an  apology  for  returning 
back  to  Monkbarns,  and  thus  escaped  the  farther  rail- 
lery of  his  uncle,  as  well  as  his  lamentations  for  his 
walking-stick. 

'I cut  it,'  he  said,  'in  the  classic  woods  of  Haw- 
thornden,  when  I  did  not  expect  always  to  have  been  a 
bachelor.  I  would  not  have  given  it  for  an  ocean  of 
seals.  O  Hector,  Hector!  thy  namesake  was  born  to  be 
the  prop  of  Troy,  and  thou  to  be  the  plague  of  Monk- 
barns!' 


NOTES  AND  GLOSSARY 


NOTES 


Note  i,  p.  115 

The  legend  of  Mrs.  Grizel  Oldbuck  was  partly  taken  from  an 
extraordinary  story  which  happened  about  seventy  years  since  in 
the  south  of  Scotland,  so  peculiar  in  its  circumstances  that  it 
merits  being  mentioned  in  this  place.  Mr.  Rutherfurd  of  Bow- 
land,  a  gentleman  of  landed  property  in  the  vale  of  Gala,  was 
prosecuted  for  a  very  considerable  sum,  the  accumulated  arrears 
of  teind  (or  tithe)  for  which  he  was  said  to  be  indebted  to  a  noble 
family,  the  titulars  (lay  impropriators  of  the  tithes).  Mr.  Ruther- 
furd was  strongly  impressed  with  the  belief  that  his  father  had, 
by  a  form  of  process  peculiar  to  the  law  of  Scotland,  purchased 
these  lands  from  the  titular,  and  therefore  that  the  present  pro- 
secution was  groundless.  But,  after  an  industrious  search  among 
his  father's  papers,  an  investigation  of  the  public  records,  and  a 
careful  inquiry  among  all  persons  who  had  transacted  law  busi- 
ness for  his  father,  no  evidence  could  be  recovered  to  support  his 
defence.  The  period  was  now  near  at  hand  when  he  conceived 
the  loss  of  his  lawsuit  to  be  inevitable,  and  he  had  formed  his  de- 
termination to  ride  to  Edinburgh  next  day,  and  make  the  best 
bargain  he  could  in  the  way  of  compromise.  He  went  to  bed  with 
this  resolution,  and,  with  all  the  circumstances  of  the  case  float- 
ing upon  his  mind,  had  a  dream  to  the  following  purpose:  —  His 
father,  who  had  been  many  years  dead,  appeared  to  him,  he 
thought,  and  asked  him  why  he  was  disturbed  in  his  mind.  In 
dreams  men  are  not  surprised  at  such  apparitions.  Mr.  Ruther- 
furd thought  that  he  informed  his  father  of  the  cause  of  his  distress, 
adding  that  the  payment  of  a  considerable  sum  of  money  was  the 
more  unpleasant  to  him  because  he  had  a  strong  consciousness 
that  it  was  not  due,  though  he  was  unable  to  recover  any  evidence 
in  support  of  his  belief.  *  You  are  right,  my  son,*  replied  the  pa- 
ternal shade;  *I  did  acquire  right  to  these  teinds,  for  payment  of 
which  you  are  now  prosecuted.  The  papers  relating  to  the  trans- 
action are  in  the  hands  of  Mr.  ,  a  writer  (or  attorney),  who  is 

now  retired  from  professional  business,  and  resides  at  Inveresk, 
near  Edinburgh.  He  was  a  person  whom  I  employed  on  that  oc- 
casion for  a  particular  reason,  but  who  never  on  any  other  occa* 


407 


NOTES 


sion  transacted  business  on  my  account.  It  is  very  possible/  pur- 
sued the  vision,  ^that  Mr.   may  have  forgotten  a  matter 

which  is  now  of  a  very  old  date;  but  you  may  call  it  to  his  recol- 
lection by  this  token,  that  when  I  came  to  pay  his  account  there 
was  difficulty  in  getting  change  for  a  Portugal  piece  of  gold,  and 
that  we  were  forced  to  drink  out  the  balance  at  a  tavern.* 

Mr.  Rutherfurd  awaked  in  the  morning  with  all  the  words  of 
the  vision  imprinted  on  his  mind,  and  thought  it  worth  while  to 
ride  across  the  country  to  Inveresk  instead  of  going  straight  to 
Edinburgh.  When  he  came  there  he  waited  on  the  gentleman 
mentioned  in  the  dream,  a  very  old  man;  without  saying  any- 
thing of  the  vision,  he  inquired  whether  he  remembered  having 
conducted  such  a  matter  for  his  deceased  father.  The  old  gentle- 
man could  not  at  first  bring  the  circumstance  to  his  recollection, 
but,  on  mention  of  the  Portugal  piece  of  gold,  the  whole  returned 
upon  his  memory;  he  made  an  immediate  search  for  the  papers, 
and  recovered  them;  so  that  Mr.  Rutherfurd  carried  to  Edin- 
burgh the  documents  necessary  to  gain  the  cause  which  he  was  on 
the  verge  of  losing. 

The  author  has  often  heard  this  story  told  by  persons  who  had 
the  best  access  to  know  the  facts,  who  were  not  likely  themselves 
to  be  deceived,  and  were  certainly  incapable  of  deception.  He 
cannot  therefore  refuse  to  give  it  credit,  however  extraordinary 
the  circumstances  may  appear.  The  circumstantial  character  of 
the  information  given  in  the  dream  takes  it  out  of  the  general 
class  of  impressions  of  the  kind  which  are  occasioned  by  the  for- 
tuitous coincidence  of  actual  events  with  our  sleeping  thoughts. 
On  the  other  hand,  few  will  suppose  that  the  laws  of  nature  were 
suspended,  and  a  special  communication  from  the  dead  to  the  liv- 
ing permitted,  for  the  purpose  of  saving  Mr.  Rutherfurd  a  certain 
number  of  hundred  pounds.  The  author's  theory  is,  that  the 
dream  was  only  the  recapitulation  of  information  which  Mr. 
Rutherfurd  had  really  received  from  his  father  while  in  life,  but 
which  at  first  he  merely  recalled  as  a  general  impression  that  the 
claim  was  settled.  It  is  not  uncommon  for  persons  to  recover, 
during  sleep,  the  thread  of  ideas  which  they  have  lost  during  their 
waking  hours. 

It  may  be  added,  that  this  remarkable  circumstance  was  at- 
tended with  bad  consequences  to  Mr.  Rutherfurd,  whose  health 
and  spirits  were  afterwards  impaired  by  the  attention  which  he 
thought  himself  obliged  to  pay  to  the  visions  of  the  night. 


408 


NOTES 


Note  2,  p.  181 

A  sort  of  tally  generally  used  by  bakers  of  the  olden  time  in 
settling  with  their  customers.  Each  family  had  its  own  nickstick, 
and  for  each  loaf  as  delivered  a  notch  was  made  on  the  stick.  Ac- 
compts  in  Exchequer,  kept  by  the  same  kind  of  check,  may  have 
occasioned  the  Antiquary's  partiality.  In  Prior's  time  the  Eng- 
lish bakers  had  the  same  sort  of  reckoning. 

Have  you  not  seen  a  baker's  maid 
Between  two  equal  panniers  sway'd  ? 
Her  tallies  useless  lie  and  idle. 
If  placed  exactly  in  the  middle. 

Note  3,  p.  222 

The  outline  of  this  story  is  taken  from  the  German,  though  the 
author  is  at  present  unable  to  say  in  which  of  the  various  collec- 
tions of  the  popular  legends  in  that  language  the  original  is  to  be 
found. 

Note  4,  p.  223 

The  shadow  of  the  person  who  sees  the  phantom  being  reflected 
upon  a  cloud  of  mist,  like  the  image  of  the  magic  lantern  upon  a 
white  sheet,  is  supposed  to  have  formed  the  apparition. 

Note  5,  p.  280 

A  great  deal  of  stuff  to  the  same  purpose  with  that  placed  in  the 
mouth  of  the  German  adept  may  be  found  in  Reginald  Scot's  Dis^ 
covery  of  Witchcraft,  Third  Edition,  folio,  London,  1665.  The 
appendix  is  entitled,  'An  Excellent  Discourse  of  the  Nature  and 
Substance  of  Devils  and  Spirits,  in  two  Books;  the  First  by  the 
aforesaid  author  (Reginald  Scot),  the  Second  now  added  in  this 
Third  Edition  as  succedaneous  to  the  former,  and  conducing  to 
the  completing  of  the  whole  work.'  This  Second  Book,  though 
stated  as  succedaneous  to  the  first,  is,  in  fact,  entirely  at  variance 
with  it;  for  the  work  of  Reginald  Scot  is  a  compilation  of  the  ab- 
surd and  superstitious  ideas  concerning  witches  so  generally  en- 
tertained at  the  time,  and  the  pretended  conclusion  is  a  serious 
treatise  on  the  various  means  of  conjuring  astral  spirits. 

Note  6,  p.  291 

It  is,  I  believe,  a  piece  of  freemasonry,  or  a  point  of  conscience, 
among  the  Scottish  lower  orders  never  to  admit  that  a  patient  is 

409 


NOTES 


doing  better.  The  closest  approach  to  recovery  which  they  can 
be  brought  to  allow  is,  that  the  party  inquired  after  is  *Naewaur/ 

Note  7,  p.  349 

In  the  fishing  villages  on  the  Firths  of  Forth  and  Tay.as  well  as 
elsewhere  in  Scotland,  the  government  is  gynecocracy ,  as  described 
in  the  text.  In  the  course  of  the  late  war,  and  during  the  alarm 
of  invasion,  a  fleet  of  transports  entered  the  Firth  of  Forth, 
under  the  convoy  of  some  ships  of  war  which  would  reply  to  no 
signals.  A  general  alarm  was  excited,  in  consequence  of  which  all 
the  fishers  who  were  enrolled  as  sea-fencibles  got  on  board  the 
gun-boats,  which  they  were  to  man  as  occasion  should  require, 
and  sailed  to  oppose  the  supposed  enemy.  The  foreigners  proved 
to  be  Russians,  with  whom  we  were  then  at  peace.  The  county 
gentlemen  of  Mid-Lothian,  pleased  with  the  zeal  displayed  by  the 
sea-fencibles  at  a  critical  moment,  passed  a  vote  for  presenting 
the  community  of  fishers  with  a  silver  punch-bowl,  to  be  used  on 
occasions  of  festivity.  But  the  fisher-women,  on  hearing  what  was 
intended,  put  in  their  claim  to  have  some  separate  share  in  the 
intended  honorary  reward.  The  men,  they  said,  were  their  hus- 
bands; it  was  they  who  would  have  been  sufferers  if  their  husbands 
had  been  killed,  and  it  was  by  their  permission  and  injunctions 
that  they  embarked  on  board  the  gun-goats  for  the  public  service. 
They  therefore  claimed  to  share  the  reward  in  some  manner  which 
should  distinguish  the  female  patriotism  which  they  had  shown 
on  the  occasion.  The  gentlemen  of  the  county  willingly  admitted 
the  claim;  and,  without  diminishing  the  value  of  their  compli- 
ment to  the  men,  they  made  the  females  a  present  of  a  valuable 
brooch,  to  fasten  the  plaid  of  the  queen  of  the  fisher-women  for 
the  time. 

It  may  be  farther  remarked,  that  these  Nereids  are  punctilious 
among  themselves,  and  observe  different  ranks  according  to  the 
commodities  they  deal  in.  One  experienced  dame  was  heard  to 
characterise  a  younger  damsel  as  *a  puir  silly  thing,  who  had  no 
ambition,  and  would  never,'  she  prophesied  *  rise  above  the  mussell 
line  of  business/ 


GLOSSARY 


a»,  all. 

aboon,  abune,  above, 
ae,  one. 
aff,  off. 
afore,  before. 

again-e'en,  toward  evening. 

aiblins,  perhaps. 

aik,  oak. 

aln,  own. 

aim,  iron. 

aitmeal,  oatmeal. 

aits,  oats. 

amaist,  almost. 

amna,  am  not. 

an,  if. 

ance,  once. 

ane,  one. 

aneath,  beneath. 

anes,  once. 

atweel,  well. 

atween,  between. 

aught,  own;  wha  'a  aught  ye?  whose 

are  you. 
auld,  old. 

auld-farrant,  having  the  manners  or 

sagacity  of  age. 
auld-warld,  old-fashioned,  ancient. 
ava\  at  all,  of  all. 
avised,  advised,  considered. 
awa^  away, 
aweel,  well, 
awmous,  alms, 
awsome,  awful,  terrible, 
aye,  always. 

aye  out-taken,  always  excepting. 
ayont,,beyond,  on  the  other  side. 

back-sey,  sirloin, 
bain,  bane,  a  bone* 
bairn,  a  child, 
baith,  both, 
ban,  curse. 

bang,  spring,  a  bound, 
bannock  fluke,  a  turbot. 


barm,  yeast, 
baudrons,  puss,  a  cat. 
bauld,  bold, 
bedral,  a  sexton, 
belike,  perhaps. 

belyve,  quickly,  immediately,  soon. 

ben,  in,  within. 

bennison,  a  blessing. 

bicker,  a  wooden  dish. 

bidden,  stayed. 

bide,  endure,  stay,  reside. 

bield,  a  shelter. 

big,  build. 

bigging,  building,  a  house. 

binna,  be  not. 

birse,  a  bristle,  the  temper. 

black-nebs,  democrats. 

blatter,  a  volley  of  clattering  words. 

blew,  blue. 

blink,  a  glimpse,  a  moment, 
blude,  blood. 

boddle,  bodle,  a  small  copper  coin, 
worth  one  sixth  of  an  English 
penny. 

bogle,  a  bogie. 

bole,  a  window,  an  aperture. 

bonny,  pretty,  fine. 

bountith,  a  bounty,  a  gratuity. 

bourd,  a  joke,  a  jest. 

bourock,  a  mound,  a  heap  of  stones. 

bowse,  pull,  haul  with  tackle. 

bra*,  braw,  brave,  fine. 

braid,  broad. 

brock,  a  badger. 

brownie,  a  spirit  or  ghost. 

brunt,  burnt. 

burrows-town,  belonging  to  a  bor- 
ough. 

busk  the  laird's  flees,  prepare  the 
squire's  flies  (for  fishing). 

ca%  call, 
ca'd,  called, 
cadger,  a  carrier. 


411 


GLOSSARY 


callant,  a  lad. 

caller,  cool,  fresh. 

cam,  came;  camna,  did  not  come. 

canna,  cannot. 

cannie  momentf  moment  of  child- 
birth. 

canny,  sensible,  cautious,  shrewd. 

cantrip,  a  frolic,  a  trick. 

car-cake,  a  small  cake  baked  with  eggs 

and  eaten  on  Shrove  Tuesday, 
carfuffle,  excitement,  agitation, 
carle,  a  man,  a  fellow, 
carllne,  a  witch, 
carvy,  caraway, 
cauld,  cold, 
causey,  a  causeway, 
certiel  faith! 

chield,  a  fellow,  a  young  man. 
daes,  clothes, 
claith,  cloth,  clothes, 
clashes,  gossip,  scandal, 
cleugh,  a  ravine,  or  gorge,  with  pre- 
cipitous sides, 
clink,  strike. 

clipping  time,  the  nick  of  time, 
clod,  hurl,  throw  heavily, 
clout,  mend, 
cock-padle,  a  lump  fish, 
collops,  minced  meat, 
condescend,  agree,  specify, 
cookie,  a  baker's  bun. 
coronach,  a  lament  for  the  dead, 
couldna,  could  not. 
coupit,  upset, 
couples,  rafters, 
cove,  a  cave,  a  pit. 
crack,  gossip. 

craft,  a  croft,  a  grazing  field, 
craig,  a  crag,  the  throat  or  neck, 
crappit-heads,  haddock  heads  stuffed 

with    oatmeal,    onions,  peppers, 

etc. 
craw,  crow. 

crazed,  weakened,  infirm, 
creel,  a  wicker  basket, 
creesh,  creish,  grease, 
cummer,  a  gossip,  a  female  com- 
panion, 
cutikinsy  a  sort  of  gaiter. 

daft,  crazy,  wild, 
daunder,  saunter. 


day,  the,  to-day. 
deeing,  dying,  doing, 
deil  gaed  o'er  Jock  Wabster,  every- 
thing went  to  the  deuce, 
deuk,  a  duck, 
didna,  did  not. 
die,  a  toy,  a  gewgaw, 
dike,  dyke,  a  stone-wall  fence, 
ding,  force,  beat,  subdue, 
dirgie,  a  funeral  feast, 
disna,  does  not. 
div,  do. 

doited,  confused,  stupid, 
donnard,  stupid, 
dooms,  very,  exceedingly, 
door-stane,  threshold, 
doubtna,  do  not  doubt, 
douce,  quiet,  sober,  sedate, 
douking,  ducking,  drenching, 
doukit,  ducked, 
doun,  down. 

doup,  the  end,  the  bottom, 
dour,  stubborn,  stern, 
dow,  be  able, 
dow-cot,  a  dovecote, 
downa  bide,  cannot  bear, 
dree,  suffer,  endure, 
droukit,  drenched, 
drudging-box,  a  flour-dredger, 
durstna,  dared  not. 
dwam,  a  swoon. 

easel,  eastward, 
ee,  the  eye. 
een,  eyes, 
e'en,  evening, 
eesight,  eyesight, 
eliding,  fuel, 
enough,  enow,  enough, 
ewking,  itching. 

fa'ard,  favoured, 
fallow,  a  fellow, 
fashions,  troublesome, 
faulded,  folded, 
feal,  faithful,  loyal, 
feal-dyke,  a  turf  dyke, 
fee,  wages, 
fending,  provision, 
fere,  sound,  well. 

feuar,  one  who  holds  land  upon  feu 
(or  fee). 


412 


GLOSSARY 


Fifteen,  the,  the  judges  of  the  Su- 
preme Court  of  Sessions  in  Scot- 
land. 

fish-guts;  Gie  our  ain  fish-guts  to 
our  ain  sea-maws,  give  our  own 
good  things  to  our  own  people. 

fissel,  rustle. 

fit,  a  foot. 

ilaughter,  flicker. 

flaughter-spade,  a  turf-spade. 

flaw,  a  blast  of  wind. 

flees,  flies. 

flude,  a  flood. 

forbear,  an  ancestor. 

forbye,  besides. 

forfairn,  exhausted,  worn  out. 

frae,  from. 

friar's  chicken,  chicken-broth  with 

eggs  dropped  in  it. 
fuff,  puff,  whiff. 

fugie-warrant,  a  warrant  to  prevent  a 

debtor's  flight, 
fule,  a  fool, 
fund,  found. 

gaberlunzie,  a  beggar. 

gae-down,  a  spree,  a  drinking-bout. 

gaed,  went. 

gait,  gate,  way,  manner, 
gane,  gone, 
gang,  go. 
ganging,  going, 
gar,  make,  oblige, 
gat,  got. 

gear,  goods,  property, 
geek,  gibe,  mock, 
gey  hard,  pretty  hard, 
ghaist,  a  ghost, 
gib,  start  backward, 
gie,  give. 

gie  our  ain  fish-guts  to  our  ain  sea- 
maws,  give  our  own  good  things  to 
our  own  people. 

gieing,  giving. 

gien,  given. 

gin,  if,  suppose. 

gleg,  quick,  sharp. 

glifif,  a  sudden  fright. 

gloamin,  twilight. 

glower,  glare,  stare. 

glum,  gloomy,  sulky. 

glunch,  sulky,  sour  looking. 


gowd,  gold. 

gowk,  a  fool. 

gownis,  gowns. 

gowpen,  a  double  handful. 

grane,  groan. 

grund,  ground,  bottom. 

gude,  good, 

gudeman,  a  husband,  master  of  the 

house, 
gudewife,  a  wife, 
guffa,  a  guffaw,  a  loud  laugh, 
gully,  a  large  knife, 
gy,  a  guide-rope. 
g3n:e-carlin,  an  ogre,  a  hobgoblin, 
gyte,  mad,  out  of  one's  senses. 

ha',  a  hall, 
haddie,  a  haddock, 
hae,  have, 
haena,  has  not. 
haet,  an  atom. 

haggis,  the  pluck,  etc.,  of  a  sheep, 
minced  with  oatmeal,  suet,  onions, 
etc.,  and  boiled  in  its  stomach. 

haill,  hale,  whole. 

hallan,  a  partition. 

hallenshaker,  a  beggar. 

halse,  the  throat. 

hantle,  a  number  of,  a  good  deal. 

hams,  brains. 

harry,  to  rob. 

hand,  hold;  haud  a  care,  have  a  care. 

hause,  the  throat. 

herds,  herders. 

heugh,  a  crag. 

hinny,  honey. 

hirple,  hobble,  limp. 

hoast,  cough. 

hoodie-craw,  a  hooded  crow, 
hooly,  softly,  gently, 
hout  awaM  Get  awayl 
howk,  dig. 
howlit,  an  owl. 

htmilock-knowe,  a  hemlock-knoU. 
hussie,  a  jade,  a  frolicsome  wench, 
huz,  us. 

ilk,  ilka,  each,  every, 
ingle,  a  fire,  a  fireplace. 
I'se,  I  shall, 
isna,  is  not. 
ivy-tod,  an  ivy  bush. 


413 


GLOSSARY 


jaloused,  suspected, 
jimp,  scarcely. 

kail-blade,  a  cabbage  or  colewort  leaf. 

kaim,  a  camp,  a  hillock. 

kale-supper  o'  Fife,  a  term  applied  to 
Fifeshire  people,  noted  for  their 
love  of  'kale*  or  broth. 

kale-yard,  a  cabbage  garden. 

kemp,  strive. 

ken,  know. 

kend,  known,  knew. 

kennin,  knowing. 

kilt,  tuck  up,  go  lightly,  hang. 

king's  keys,  the  crowbars  and  ham- 
mers used  to  force  doors  and  locks, 
in  execution  of  the  king's  warrant. 

kippage,  disorder,  confusion,  irritation. 

kirk,  a  church, 

kist,  a  chest. 

kittle,  ticklish. 

knowe,  a  knoll. 

laigh,  low. 

laird,  lord  of  a  manor,  squire, 
landlouper^  a  vagabond,  an  adven- 
turer, 
lang,  long. 

lang  syne,  long  since,  long  ago. 
lapper  milk,  curdled  milk, 
leasing-making,  treason,  sedition, 
leddy,  a  lady, 
lee,  a  lie. 
lift,  the  sky. 

likewake,  lykewake,  a  watch  at 

night,  over  the  dead, 
lilt,  a  carol,  a  lively  air. 
limmer,  a  jade. 

loan,  loaning,  a  meadow,  a  lane. 

Ice,  love. 

lookit,  looked. 

lounder,  a  heavy  blow. 

luckie,  Goodie  1  a  familiar  name  for 

an  elderly  woman, 
lug,  the  ear. 
lunzie,  the  loin, 
lykewake.  See  likewake. 

maen,  moan,  complain,  regret, 
mailing,  a  rented  farm, 
mail,  more;  mair  by  token,  more  than 
that,  especially. 


maist,  most, 
mak,  make, 
manse,  a  parsonage, 
manty,  a  mantle, 
maun,  must. 

maunder,  talk  incoherently, 
maunna,  must  not. 
mear,  a  mare. 

merk,  a  Scottish  silver  coin,  worth 

15.  I  id.  English, 
mickle,  much, 
midden,  a  dunghill, 
mind,  remember, 
minded,  disposed, 
minnie,  mamma, 
mirk,  dark, 
misc'a,  miscall,  abuse, 
mony,  many, 
mom,  the,  to-morrow, 
moust,  powder, 
muckle,  much, 
munt,  mount. 

mutchkin,  a  measure  equal  to  an  Eng« 

lish  pint. 

na,  nae,  no. 
naig,  a  nag. 
nain,  own. 
nane,  none, 
neb,  a  nose, 
needna,  need  not. 
ne'er-be-lickit,  not  a  bit. 
neist,  next. 

nick-nackets,  bric-a-brac,  gimcracks. 

od  I  odd  1  an  oath,  omitting  one  letter. 

ony,  any. 

or,  ere,  before. 

orra,  odd,  occasional. 

o*t,  of  it. 

outby,  without,  a  little  way  out. 
outer-house,  one  of  the  law  courts, 
ower,  over. 

owerlook,  disregard,  ignore. 

parafle,  ostentatious  display. 

parritch,  porridge. 

partan,  a  crab. 

pawkie,  wily,  sly,  droll. 

peery,  a  peg-top. 

pickle,  a  small  quantity,  a  little. 

pirn,  a  reel. 


414 


GLOSSARY 


pUdnstanes,  the  flagstones,  the  pave- 
ment. 

plea,  a  lawsuit. 

pock,  poke,  a  pouch,  a  bag. 
»    poind,  distrain,  seize  and  sell  under 
warrant. 

popple,  bubble,  ripple. 

pouchy  a  pocket. 

pound  Scots,  worth  is,  Sd.  English 

money, 
pouthered,  powdered, 
pow,  poll,  head, 
powny,  a  pony, 
pu',  pull, 
pair,  poor, 
pund,  a  pound. 

Quean,  a  wench,  a  young  woman. 

rampauging,  raging,  roaring, 
randy,  a  scold, 
rattlin,  a  rope  ladder, 
reist,  refuse  to  go  on. 
rickle,  a  heap,  a  quantity, 
rin,  run. 

roughies,  links  or  torches, 
rottth,  abundance. 

sae,  so. 

sair,  sore,  very  much, 
sail,  shall. 

sampler,  a  piece  of  embroidery  or 

sewing, 
sark,  a  shirt, 
saut,  salt. 

sax,  six;  saxty,  sixty, 
sconner,  scunner,  disgust, 
scot  and  lot,  taxes, 
sea-maw,  a  sea-gull, 
seekit,  asked, 
sey,  back-sey,  the  sirloin, 
shank  yoursell  awa\  be  off  I 
shanks,  legs. 

shathmont,  six  inches  in  length. 

shirra,  a  sheriff. 

shoon,  shoes. 

sib,  related  by  blood. 

sic,  slccan,  such. 

side,  long  (said  of  garments). 

siller,  money. 

simmer,  summer;  simmer  and  win- 
ter, to  ruminate  over. 


sin,  since. 

sinsyne,  since^then.* 

sist,  delay. 

skart,  a  cormorant. 

skeely,  skilful,  experienced. 

skirl,  shrill,  scream. 

skreighing,  screeching,  shrieking. 

slaistering,  making  a  mess. 

slink,  sneaky,  mean. 

slow-hound,  a  sleuthhound. 

sma*,  small. 

sneck,  shut  with  a  latch;  a  latch, 
sneeshin,  snuff. 

snell,  sharp,  severe;  snell  and  dure, 

harsh  and  stubborn. 

snodded,  tidied. 

somedele,  somewhat. 

sonsy,  plump,  happy,  comfortable. 

soothfast,  honest,  faithful. 

soming,  sponging,  being  an  unin- 
vited and  unwelcome  guest. 

sort,  manage,  arrange. 

sough,  a  sigh,  a  whisper,  a  rumour. 

soup,  a  mouthful,  a  spoonful. 

soupled,  made  supple. 

souter,  a  shoemaker. 

speel,  scale,  climb. 

spunk,  a  spark,  a  match,  a  small  fire. 

stane,  a  stone, 

steek,  shut. 

stirra,  a  stout  lad,  a  young  fellow, 
stoup,  a  flagon,  a  pitcher, 
stouth  and  routh,  plenty, 
strae,  straw. 

streek,  stretch,  lay  out  for  burial* 
stress,  hard  pressure, 
strucken,  struck,  seized, 
suld,  should, 
sweer,  unwilling, 
syne,  since,  ago. 

tackets,  hob-nails. 

tae,  the,  the  one. 

taen, taken. 

talepyet,  a  tell-tale. 

tammie-norie,  a  puffin. 

tane,  the,  the  one. 

tap,  the  top. 

tauld,  told. 

teinds,  tithes. 

tent,  care. 

thae,  these,  those. 


41S 


GLOSSARY 


thankit,  thanked, 
thegither,  together, 
threep,  control,  insist, 
through-stane,  a  grave  stone, 
thrum,  tell  over, 
till,  to. 
till't,  to  it. 

tilley-valley,  nonsense!  bosh! 

tirlie-wirlie,  twisting. 

tocher,  a  dowry,  a  marriage  portion. 

tod,  a  bush;  also,  a  fox. 

tousled,  disordered,  rumpled. 

tousled  out,  ransacked. 

tow,  a  rope. 

towmond,  a  twelvemonth,  a  year, 
trimmer,  a  vixen,  one  who  chastises, 

something  decisive, 
tripple,  ill-made. 

troker,  a  small  dealer,  a  meddler, 
troth,  sure. 

trow,  trust,  believe,  think, 
twa,  two. 
twal,  twelve. 

twalpenny,  one  penny  sterling. 

ugsome,  ugly,  noisome, 
ulyie,  oil. 

unbrizzed,  unbroken,  unbruised. 
unce,  an  ounce, 
imco,  particularly,  very, 
uphaud,  uphold,  maintain, 
upsides  withy  even  with. 

vera,  very. 

vole,  a  winning  of  all  the  tricks  played 
in  one  deal. 


wad,  would. 

wadna,  would  not. 

waf,  insignificant,  worthless. 

wale,  the  choice,  the  pick. 

wallowing,  weltering. 

walth,  plenty. 

wame,  the  womb,  the  belly. 

wan,  got,  won. 

warst,  worst. 

wauken,  to  waken. 

waur,  worse;  waured,  worsted. 

wean,  an  infant. 

wee,  small. 

weel-fa*ard,  well-favored,  prepossess- 
ing. 

weize,  direct,  turn, 
whar,  where. 

wha  *s  aught  ye?  whose  are  you? 
what  for?  why? 
wheen,  a  few. 
whiles,  sometimes, 
whilk,  which. 

whistled,  given  information  to  the 

party  concerned, 
wi*,  with, 
winna,  will  not. 
worricow,  a  hobgoblin, 
wrang,  wrong. 
wuU,  will, 
wuss,  wish. 

yald,  yauld,  supple,  active. 

yere,  your. 

ye  *se,  you  shall. 

yestreen,  last  evening,  last  night. 

yon,  there,  yonder,  beyond. 


END  OF  VOLUME  I 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

AND 

THE  BLACK  DWARF 


BY 

SIR  WALTER  SCOTT 

VOLUME  II 


BOSTON  AND  NEW  YORK 
HOUGHTON  MIFFLIN  COMPANY 


COPYRIGHT,  I912 
BY  HOUGHTON  MIFFLIN  COMPANY 


ALL  RIGHTS  RESERVED 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

VOLUME  II 


1 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


CHAPTER  XXXI 


Tell  me  not  of  it,  friend.    When  the  young  weep, 
Their  tears  are  lukewarm  brine;  from  our  old  eyes 
Sorrow  falls  down  like  hail-drops  of  the  North, 
Chilling  the  furrows  of  our  wither'd  cheeks, 
Cold  as  our  hopes,  and  harden'd  as  our  feeling. 
Theirs,  as  they  fall,  sink  sightless;  ours  recoil. 
Heap  the  fair  plain,  and  bleaken  all  before  us. 

Old  Play. 

The  Antiquary,  being  now  alone,  hastened  his  pace, 
which  had  been  retarded  by  these  various  discussions  and 
the  rencontre  which  had  closed  them,  and  soon  arrived 
before  the  half-dozen  cottages  at  Mussel  Crag.  They 
now  had,  in  addition  to  their  usual  squalid  and  uncom- 
fortable appearance,  the  melancholy  attributes  of  the 
house  of  mourning.  The  boats  were  all  drawn  up  on  the 
beach;  and,  though  the  day  was  fine  and  the  season  fa- 
vourable, the  chant  which  is  used  by  the  fishers  when  at 
sea  was  silent,  as  well  as  the  prattle  of  the  children,  and 
the  shrill  song  of  the  mother,  as  she  sits  mending  her  nets 
by  the  door.  A  few  of  the  neighbours,  some  in  their  an- 
tique and  well-saved  suits  of  black,  others  in  their  ordin- 
ary clothes,  but  all  bearing  an  expression  of  mournful 
sympathy  with  distress  so  sudden  and  unexpected,  stood 
gathered  around  the  door  of  Mucklebackit's  cottage, 
waiting  till '  the  body  was  lifted.'  As  the  Laird  of  Monk- 
barns  approached  they  made  way  for  him  to  enter,  doff- 
ing their  hats  and  bonnets  as  he  passed  with  an  air  of 

6  I 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


melancholy  courtesy,  and  he  returned  their  salutes  in  the 
same  manner. 

In  the  inside  of  the  cottage  was  a  scene  which  our 
Wilkie  alone  could  have  painted,  with  that  exquisite 
feeling  of  nature  that  characterises  his  enchanting  pro- 
ductions. 

The  body  was  laid  in  its  coffin  within  the  wooden  bed- 
stead which  the  young  fisher  had  occupied  while  aUve. 
At  a  little  distance  stood  the  father,  whose  rugged, 
weather-beaten  countenance,  shaded  by  his  grizzled 
hair,  had  faced  many  a  stormy  night  and  night-like  day. 
He  was  apparently  revolving  his  loss  in  his  mind  with 
that  strong  feeling  of  painful  grief  pecuKar  to  harsh  and 
rough  characters,  which  almost  breaks  forth  into  hatred 
against  the  world  and  all  that  remain  in  it  after  the  be- 
loved object  is  withdrawn.  The  old  man  had  made  the 
most  desperate  efforts  to  save  his  son,  and  had  only  been 
withheld  by  main  force  from  renewing  them  at  a  moment 
when,  without  the  possibility  of  assisting  the  sufferer,  he 
must  himself  have  perished.  All  this  apparently  was 
boiling  in  his  recollection.  His  glance  was  directed  side- 
long towards  the  coffin,  as  to  an  object  on  which  he  could 
not  steadfastly  look,  and  yet  from  which  he  could  not 
withdraw  his  eyes.  His  answers  to  the  necessary  ques- 
tions which  were  occasionally  put  to  him  were  brief, 
harsh,  and  almost  fierce.  His  family  had  not  yet  dared 
to  address  to  him  a  word,  either  of  sympathy  or  conso- 
lation. His  masculine  wife,  virago  as  she  was,  and  abso- 
lute mistress  of  the  family,  as  she  justly  boasted  herself, 
on  all  ordinary  occasions,  was  by  this  great  loss  terrified 
into  silence  and  submission,  and  compelled  to  hide  from 
her  husband's  observation  the  bursts  of  her  female  sor- 


2 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


row.  As  he  had  rejected  food  ever  since  the  disaster  had 
happened,  not  daring  herself  to  approach  him,  she  had 
that  morning,  with  affectionate  artifice,  employed  the 
youngest  and  favourite  child  to  present  her  husband 
with  some  nourishment.  His  first  action  was  to  push  it 
from  him  with  an  angry  violence  that  frightened  the 
child;  his  next  to  snatch  up  the  boy  and  devour  him  with 
kisses.  ^Ye'U  be  a  bra'  fallow,  an  ye  be  spared,  Patie; 
but  ye '11  never  —  never  can  be  —  what  he  was  to  me! 
He  has  sailed  the  coble  wi'  me  since  he  was  ten  years 
auld,  and  there  wasna  the  Hke  o'  him  drew  a  net  betwixt 
this  and  Buchan  Ness.  They  say  folks  maun  submit; 
I  will  try.' 

And  he  had  been  silent  from  that  moment  until  com- 
pelled to  answer  the  necessary  questions  we  have  already 
noticed.  Such  was  the  disconsolate  state  of  the  father. 

In  another  corner  of  the  cottage,  her  face  covered  by 
her  apron,  which  was  flung  over  it,  sat  the  mother,  the 
nature  of  her  grief  sufficiently  indicated  by  the  wringing 
of  her  hands  and  the  convulsive  agitation  of  the  bosom 
which  the  covering  could  not  conceal.  Two  of  her  gos- 
sips, officiously  whispering  into  her  ear  the  commonplace 
topic  of  resignation  under  irremediable  misfortune, 
seemed  as  if  they  were  endeavouring  to  stun  the  grief 
which  they  could  not  console. 

The  sorrow  of  the  children  was  mingled  with  wonder 
at  the  preparations  they  beheld  around  them,  and  at 
the  unusual  display  of  wheaten  bread  and  wine,  which 
the  poorest  peasant  or  fisher  offers  to  the  guests  on 
these  mournful  occasions;  and  thus  their  grief  for  their 
brother's  death  was  almost  already  lost  in  admiration 
of  the  splendour  of  his  funeral. 


3 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


But  the  figure  of  the  old  grandmother  was  the  most 
remarkable  of  the  sorrowing  group.  Seated  on  her  accus- 
tomed chair,  with  her  usual  air  of  apathy  and  want  of 
interest  in  what  surrounded  her,  she  seemed  every  now 
and  then  mechanically  to  resume  the  motion  of  twirling 
her  spindle,  then  to  look  towards  her  bosom  for  the  dis- 
taff, although  both  had  been  laid  aside.  She  would  then 
cast  her  eyes  about  as  if  surprised  at  missing  the  usual 
implements  of  her  industry,  and  appear  struck  by  the 
black  colour  of  the  gown  in  which  they  had  dressed  her, 
and  embarrassed  by  the  number  of  persons  by  whom  she 
was  surrounded;  then,  finally,  she  would  raise  her  head 
with  a  ghastly  look  and  fix  her  eyes  upon  the  bed  which 
contained  the  coffin  of  her  grandson,  as  if  she  had  at  once, 
and  for  the  first  time,  acquired  sense  to  comprehend  her 
inexpressible  calamity.  These  alternate  feelings  of  em- 
barrassment, wonder,  and  grief  seemed  to  succeed  each 
other  more  than  once  upon  her  torpid  features.  But  she 
spoke  not  a  word,  neither  had  she  shed  a  tear;  nor  did 
one  of  the  family  understand,  either  from  look  or  expres- 
sion, to  what  extent  she  comprehended  the  uncommon 
bustle  around  her.  Thus  she  sat  among  the  funeral 
assembly  hke  a  connecting  link  between  the  surviving 
mourners  and  the  dead  corpse  which  they  bewailed  — 
a  being  in  whom  the  light  of  existence  was  already 
obscured  by  the  encroaching  shadows  of  death. 

When  Oldbuck  entered  this  house  of  mourning  he  was 
received  by  a  general  and  silent  incHnation  of  the  head, 
and,  according  to  the  fashion  of  Scotland  on  such  occa- 
sions, wine  and  spirits  and  bread  were  offered  round  to 
the  guests.  Elspeth,  as  these  refreshments  were  pre- 
sented, surprised  and  startled  the  whole  company  by 

4 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

motioning  to  the  person  who  bore  them  to  stop;  then, 
taking  a  glass  in  her  hand,  she  rose  up,  and,  as  the  smile 
of  dotage  played  upon  her  shrivelled  features,  she  pro- 
nounced, with  a  hollow  and  tremulous  voice,  ^wishing  a' 
your  healths,  sirs,  and  often  may  we  hae  such  merry 
meetings!' 

All  shrunk  from  the  ominous  pledge,  and  set  down 
the  untasted  liquor  with  a  degree  of  shuddering  horror 
which  will  not  surprise  those  who  know  how  many  super- 
stitions are  still  common  on  such  occasions  among  the 
Scottish  vulgar.  But  as  the  old  woman  tasted  the  liquor 
she  suddenly  exclaimed  with  a  sort  of  shriek,  ^What's 
this?  this  is  wine;  how  should  there  be  wine  in  my  son's 
house?  Ay,'  she  continued  with  a  suppressed  groan,  'I 
mind  the  sorrowful  cause  now,'  and,  dropping  the  glass 
from  her  hand,  she  stood  a  moment  gazing  fixedly  on  the 
bed  in  which  the  coffin  of  her  grandson  was  deposited, 
and  then,  sinking  gradually  into  her  seat,  she  covered 
her  eyes  and  forehead  with  her  withered  and  paUid  hand. 

At  this  moment  the  clergyman  entered  the  cottage. 
Mr.  Blattergowl,  though  a  dreadful  proser,  particularly 
on  the  subject  of  augmentations,  localities,  teinds,  and 
overtures  in  that  session  of  the  General  Assembly  to 
which,  unfortunately  for  his  auditors,  he  chanced  one 
year  to  act  as  moderator,  was  nevertheless  a  good  man, 
in  the  old  Scottish  Presbyterian  phrase,  God-ward  and 
man-ward.  No  divine  was  more  attentive  in  visiting 
the  sick  and  afflicted,  in  catechising  the  youth,  in  in- 
structing the  ignorant,  and  in  reproving  the  erring. 
And  hence,  notwithstanding  impatience  of  his  prolixity 
and  prejudices,  personal  or  professional,  and  notwith- 
standing, moreover,  a  certain  habitual  contempt  for 

S 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


his  understanding,  especially  on  affairs  of  genius  and 
taste,  on  which  Blattergowl  was  apt  to  be  diffuse,  from 
his  hope  of  one  day  fighting  his  way  to  a  chair  of  rhetoric 
or  belles  lettres  —  notwithstanding,  I  say,  all  the  preju- 
dices excited  against  him  by  these  circumstances,  our 
friend  the  Antiquary  looked  with  great  regard  and  re- 
spect on  the  said  Blattergowl,  though  I  own  he  could 
seldom,  even  by  his  sense  of  decency  and  the  remon- 
strances of  his  womankind,  be  *  hounded  out,'  as  he 
called  it,  to  hear  him  preach.  But  he  regularly  took 
shame  to  himself  for  his  absence  when  Blattergowl  came 
to  Monkbarns  to  dinner,  to  which  he  was  always  invited 
of  a  Sunday,  a  mode  of  testifying  his  respect  which  the 
proprietor  probably  thought  fully  as  agreeable  to  the 
clergyman,  and  rather  more  congenial  to  his  own  habits. 

To  return  from  a  digression  which  can  only  serve  to 
introduce  the  honest  clergyman  more  particularly  to  our 
readers,  Mr.  Blattergowl  had  no  sooner  entered  the  hut 
and  received  the  mute  and  melancholy  salutations  of  the 
company  whom  it  contained,  than  he  edged  himself  to- 
wards the  unfortunate  father,  and  seemed  to  endeavour 
to  slide  in  a  few  words  of  condolence  or  of  consolation. 
But  the  old  man  was  incapable  as  yet  of  receiving  either; 
he  nodded,  however,  gruffly,  and  shook  the  clergyman's 
hand  in  acknowledgment  of  his  good  intentions,  but  was 
either  unable  or  unwiUing  to  make  any  verbal  reply. 

The  minister  next  passed  to  the  mother,  moving  along 
the  floor  as  slowly,  silently,  and  gradually  as  if  he  had 
been  afraid  that  the  ground  would,  Hke  unsafe  ice,  break 
beneath  his  feet,  or  that  the  first  echo  of  a  footstep  was 
to  dissolve  some  magic  spell  and  plunge  the  hut,  with 
all  its  inmates,  into  a  subterranean  abyss.  The  tenor 

6 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

of  what  he  had  said  to  the  poor  woman  could  only  be 
judged  by  her  answers,  as,  half-stifled  by  sobs  ill-re- 
pressed, and  by  the  covering  which  she  still  kept  over 
her  countenance,  she  faintly  answered  at  each  pause  in 
his  speech,  ^  Yes,  sir,  yes!  Ye 're  very  gude!  ye 're  very 
gude!  Nae  doubt,  nae  doubt!  It 's  our  duty  to  submit! 
But,  O  dear,  my  poor  Steenie,  the  pride  o'  my  very 
heart,  that  was  sae  handsome  and  comely,  and  a  help  to 
his  family,  and  a  comfort  to  us  a',  and  a  pleasure  to  a* 
that  lookit  on  him!  0  my  bairn,  my  bairn,  my  bairn! 
what  for  is  thou  lying  there,  and  eh!  what  for  am 
I  left  to  greet  for  ye?' 

There  was  no  contending  with  this  burst  of  sorrow 
and  natural  affection.  Oldbuck  had  repeated  recourse 
to  his  snuffbox  to  conceal  the  tears  which,  despite  his 
shrewd  and  caustic  temper,  were  apt  to  start  on  such 
occasions.  The  female  assistants  whimpered,  the  men 
held  their  bonnets  to  their  faces,  and  spoke  apart  with 
each  other.  The  clergyman  meantime  addressed  his 
ghostly  consolation  to  the  aged  grandmother.  At  first 
she  listened,  or  seemed  to  Usten,  to  what  he  said  with  the 
apathy  of  her  usual  unconsciousness.  But  as,  in  pressing 
this  theme,  he  approached  so  near  to  her  ear  that  the 
sense  of  his  words  became  distinctly  intelligible  to  her, 
though  unheard  by  those  who  stood  more  distant,  her 
countenance  at  once  assumed  that  stern  and  expressive 
cast  which  characterised  her  intervals  of  intelligence. 
She  drew  up  her  head  and  body,  shook  her  head  in  a 
manner  that  showed  at  least  impatience,  if  not  scorn, 
of  his  counsel,  and  waved  her  hand  slightly,  but  with 
a  gesture  so  expressive  as  to  indicate  to  all  who  wit- 
nessed it  a  marked  and  disdainful  rejection  of  the 

7 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


ghostly  consolation  proffered  to  her.  The  minister 
stepped  back  as  if  repulsed,  and,  by  lifting  gently  and 
dropping  his  hand,  seemed  to  show  at  once  wonder, 
sorrow,  and  compassion  for  her  dreadful  state  of  mind. 
The  rest  of  the  company  sympathised,  and  a  stifled 
whisper  went  through  them,  indicating  how  much  her 
desperate  and  determined  manner  impressed  them  with 
awe  and  even  horror. 

In  the  meantime  the  funeral  company  was  completed 
by  the  arrival  of  one  or  two  persons  who  had  been  ex- 
pected from  Fairport.  The  wine  and  spirits  again  circu- 
lated, and  the  dumb  show  of  greeting  was  anew  inter- 
changed. The  grandame  a  second  time  took  a  glass  in 
her  hand,  drank  its  contents,  and  exclaimed,  with  a  sort 
of  laugh  —  *Ha!  ha!  I  hae  tasted  wine  twice  in  ae  day. 
Whan  did  I  that  before,  think  ye,  cummers?  Never  since 
— '  And  the  transient  glow  vanishing  from  her  coun- 
tenance, she  set  the  glass  down  and  sunk  upon  the  settle 
from  whence  she  had  risen  to  snatch  at  it. 

As  the  general  amazement  subsided,  Mr.  Oldbuck, 
whose  heart  bled  to  witness  what  he  considered  as  the 
errings  of  the  enfeebled  intellect  struggling  with  the  tor- 
pid chill  of  age  and  of  sorrow,  observed  to  the  clergyman 
that  it  was  time  to  proceed  with  the  ceremony.  The  fa- 
ther was  incapable  of  giving  directions,  but  the  nearest 
relation  of  the  family  made  a  sign  to  the  carpenter,  who 
in  such  cases  goes  through  the  duty  of  the  undertaker, 
to  proceed  in  his  office.  The  creak  of  the  screw-nails 
presently  announced  that  the  lid  of  the  last  mansion  of 
mortality  was  in  the  act  of  being  secured  above  its  ten- 
ant. The  last  act  which  separates  us  for  ever,  even  from 
the  mortal  relics  of  the  person  we  assemble  to  mourn, 

8 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

has  usually  its  effect  upon  the  most  indifferent,  selfish, 
and  hard-hearted.  With  a  spirit  of  contradiction  which 
we  may  be  pardoned  for  esteeming  narrow-minded,  the 
fathers  of  the  Scottish  Kirk  rejected,  even  on  this  most 
solemn  occasion,  the  form  of  an  address  to  the  Divinity, 
lest  they  should  be  thought  to  give  countenance  to  the 
rituals  of  Rome  or  of  England.  With  much  better  and 
more  Hberal  judgment,  it  is  the  present  practice  of  most 
of  the  Scottish  clergymen  to  seize  this  opportunity  of 
offering  a  prayer  and  exhortation  suitable  to  make  an 
impression  upon  the  living,  while  they  are  yet  in  the  very 
presence  of  the  relics  of  him  whom  they  have  but  lately 
seen  such  as  they  themselves,  and  who  now  is  such  as 
they  must  in  their  time  become.  But  this  decent  and 
praiseworthy  practice  was  not  adopted  at  the  time  of 
which  I  am  treating,  or  at  least  Mr.  Blattergowl  did  not 
act  upon  it,  and  the  ceremony  proceeded  without  any 
devotional  exercise. 

The  coffin,  covered  with  a  pall  and  supported  upon 
handspikes  by  the  nearest  relatives,  now  only  waited  the 
father  to  support  the  head,  as  is  customary.  Two  or 
three  of  these  privileged  persons  spoke  to  him,  but  he 
only  answered  by  shaking  his  hand  and  his  head  in  token 
of  refusal.  With  better  intention  than  judgment,  the 
friends,  who  considered  this  as  an  act  of  duty  on  the  part 
of  the  living  and  of  decency  towards  the  deceased,  would 
have  proceeded  to  enforce  their  request  had  not  Oldbuck 
interfered  between  the  distressed  father  and  his  well- 
meaning  tormentors,  and  informed  them  that  he  himself, 
as  landlord  and  master  to  the  deceased,  'would  carry  his 
head  to  the  grave.'  In  spite  of  the  sorrowful  occasion, 
the  hearts  of  the  relatives  swelled  within  them  at  so 


9 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


marked  a  distinction  on  the  part  of  the  Laird;  and  old 
AilisonBreck,  who  was  present  among  other  fish- women, 
swore  almost  aloud,  'His  honour  Monkbarns  should 
never  want  sax  warp  of  oysters  in  the  season  (of  which 
fish  he  was  understood  to  be  fond),  if  she  should  gang  to 
sea  and  dredge  for  them  hersell  in  the  foulest  wind  that 
ever  blew.'  And  such  is  the  temper  of  the  Scottish  com- 
mon people,  that,  by  this  instance  of  compliance  with 
their  customs  and  respect  for  their  persons,  Mr.  Oldbuck 
gained  more  popularity  than  by  all  the  sums  which  he 
had  yearly  distributed  in  the  parish  for  purposes  of 
private  or  general  charity. 

The  sad  procession  now  moved  slowly  forward,  pre- 
ceded by  the  beadles,  or  saulies,  with  their  batons  — • 
miserable-looking  old  men  tottering  as  if  on  the  edge  of 
that  grave  to  which  they  were  marshalling  another,  and 
clad,  according  to  Scottish  guise,  with  threadbare  black 
coats  and  hunting-caps  decorated  with  rusty  crape. 
Monkbarns  would  probably  have  remonstrated  against 
this  superfluous  expense  had  he  been  consulted;  but  in 
doing  so  he  would  have  given  more  offence  than  he 
gained  popularity  by  condescending  to  perform  the 
office  of  chief  mourner.  Of  this  he  was  quite  aware,  and 
wisely  withheld  rebuke  where  rebuke  and  advice  would 
have  been  equally  unavailing.  In  truth,  the  Scottish 
peasantry  are  still  infected  with  that  rage  for  funeral 
ceremonial  which  once  distinguished  the  grandees  of  the 
kingdom,  so  much  that  a  sumptuary  law  was  made  by 
the  Parliament  of  Scotland  for  the  purpose  of  restraining 
it;  and  I  have  known  many  in  the  lowest  stations  who 
have  denied  themselves  not  merely  the  comforts,  but 
almost  the  necessaries  of  life,  in  order  to  save  such  a  sum 

lO 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

of  money  as  might  enable  their  surviving  friends  to  bury 
them  like  Christians,  as  they  termed  it;  nor  could  their 
faithful  executors  be  prevailed  upon,  though  equally 
necessitous,  to  turn  to  the  use  and  maintenance  of  the 
living  the  money  vainly  wasted  upon  the  interment  of 
the  dead. 

The  procession  to  the  churchyard,  at  about  half  a 
mile's  distance,  was  made  with  the  mournful  solemnity 
usual  on  these  occasions,  the  body  was  consigned  to  its 
parent  earth,  and,  when  the  labour  of  the  gravediggers 
had  filled  up  the  trench  and  covered  it  with  fresh  sod, 
Mr.  Oldbuck,  taking  his  hat  off,  saluted  the  assistants, 
who  had  stood  by  in  melancholy  silence,  and  with  that 
adieu  dispersed  the  mourners. 

The  clergyman  offered  our  Antiquary  his  company  to 
walk  homeward;  but  Mr.  Oldbuck  had  been  so  much 
struck  with  the  deportment  of  the  fisherman  and  his 
mother  that,  moved  by  compassion,  and  perhaps  also, 
in  some  degree,  by  that  curiosity  which  induces  us  to 
seek  out  even  what  gives  us  pain  to  witness,  he  preferred 
a  solitary  walk  by  the  coast,  for  the  purpose  of  again 
visiting  the  cottage  as  he  passed. 


CHAPTER  XXXII 


What  is  this  secret  sin,  this  untold  tale, 
That  art  cannot  extract,  nor  penance  cleanse? 

Her  muscles  hold  their  place, 
Nor  discomposed,  nor  form'd  to  steadiness, 
No  sudden  flushing,  and  no  faltering  lip. 

Mysterious  Mother* 

The  cofl&n  had  been  borne  from  the  place  where  it  rested. 
The  mourners,  in  regular  gradation,  according  to  their 
rank  or  their  relationship  to  the  deceased,  had  filed  from 
the  cottage,  while  the  younger  male  children  were  led 
along  to  totter  after  the  bier  of  their  brother,  and  to 
view  with  wonder  a  ceremonial  which  they  could  hardly 
comprehend.  The  female  gossips  next  rose  to  depart, 
and,  with  consideration  for  the  situation  of  the  parents, 
carried  along  with  them  the  girls  of  the  family,  to  give 
the  unhappy  pair  time  and  opportunity  to  open  their 
hearts  to  each  other,  and  soften  their  grief  by  communi- 
cating it.  But  their  kind  intention  was  without  effect. 
The  last  of  them  had  darkened  the  entrance  of  the  cot- 
tage as  she  went  out,  and  drawn  the  door  softly  behind 
her,  when  the  father,  first  ascertaining  by  a  hasty  glance 
that  no  stranger  remained,  started  up,  clasped  his  hands 
wildly  above  his  head,  uttered  a  cry  of  the  despair  which 
he  had  hitherto  repressed,  and,  in  all  the  impotent  im- 
patience of  grief,  half  rushed,  half  staggered  forward  to 
the  bed  on  which  the  coffin  had  been  deposited,  threw 
himself  down  upon  it,  and,  smothering,  as  it  were,  his 
head  among  the  bed-clothes,  gave  vent  to  the  full  passion 
of  his  sorrow.  It  was  in  vain  that  the  wretched  mother, 

12 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

terrified  by  the  vehemence  of  her  husband's  affliction — 
affliction  still  more  fearful  as  agitating  a  man  of  hard- 
ened manners  and  a  robust  frame  —  suppressed  her  own 
sobs  and  tears,  and,  pulling  him  by  the  skirts  of  his  coat, 
implored  him  to  rise  and  remember  that,  though  one  was 
removed,  he  had  still  a  wife  and  children  to  comfort  and 
support.  The  appeal  came  at  too  early  a  period  of  his 
anguish,  and  was  totally  unattended  to;  he  continued  to 
remain  prostrate,  indicating,  by  sobs  so  bitter  and  vio- 
lent that  they  shook  the  bed  and  partition  against  which 
it  rested,  by  clenched  hands  which  grasped  the  bed- 
clothes, and  by  the  vehement  and  convulsive  motion  of 
his  legs,  how  deep  and  how  terrible  was  the  agony  of 
a  father's  sorrow. 

^  O,  what  a  day  is  this !  what  a  day  is  this ! '  said  the 
poor  mother,  her  womanish  affliction  already  exhausted 
by  sobs  and  tears,  and  now  almost  lost  in  terror  for  the 
state  in  which  she  beheld  her  husband  —  ^  O,  what  an 
hour  is  this !  and  naebody  to  help  a  poor  lone  woman.  O, 
gudemither,  could  ye  but  speak  a  word  to  him!  wad  ye 
but  bid  him  be  comforted!' 

To  her  astonishment,  and  even  to  the  increase  of  her 
fear,  her  husband's  mother  heard  and  answered  the 
appeal.  She  rose  and  walked  across  the  floor  without 
support,  and  without  much  apparent  feebleness,  and, 
standing  by  the  bed  on  which  her  son  had  extended 
himself,  she  said,  ^  Rise  up,  my  son,  and  sorrow  not  for 
him  that  is  beyond  sin  and  sorrow  and  temptation. 
Sorrow  is  for  those  that  remain  in  this  vale  of  sorrow 
and  darkness.  I,  wha  dinna  sorrow,  and  wha  canna  sor- 
row for  ony  ane,  hae  maist  need  that  ye  should  a' 
sorrow  for  me.' 


13 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


The  voice  of  his  mother,  not  heard  for  years  as  taking 
part  in  the  active  duties  of  life,  or  offering  advice  or  con- 
solation, produced  its  effect  upon  her  son.  He  assumed 
a  sitting  posture  on  the  side  of  the  bed,  and  his  appear- 
ance, attitude,  and  gestures  changed  from  those  of  angry 
despair  to  deep  grief  and  dejection.  The  grandmother 
retired  to  her  nook,  the  mother  mechanically  took  in  her 
hand  her  tattered  Bible,  and  seemed  to  read,  though  her 
eyes  were  drowned  with  tears. 

They  were  thus  occupied  when  a  loud  knock  was 
heard  at  the  door. 

^Hegh,  sirs!'  said  the  poor  mother,  ^wha  is  it  that  can 
be  coming  in  that  gait  e'enow?  They  canna  hae  heard  o' 
our  misfortune,  I'm  sure.' 

The  knock  being  repeated,  she  rose  and  opened  the 
door,  saying  querulously,  ^  Whatna  gait's  that  to  disturb 
a  sorrowfu'  house?' 

A  tall  man  in  black  stood  before  her,  whom  she 
instantly  recognised  to  be  Lord  Glenallan. 

^Is  there  not,'  he  said,  ^an  old  woman  lodging  in  this 
or  one  of  the  neighbouring  cottages,  called  Elspeth,  who 
was  long  resident  at  Craigburnfoot  of  Glenallan?' 

^It's  my  gudemither,  my  lord,'  said  Margaret;  'but 
she  canna  see  ony  body  e'enow.  Ohon!  w;e're  dreeing 
a  sair  weird;  we  hae  had  a  heavy  dispensation!' 

'God  forbid,'  said  Lord  Glenallan,  'that  I  should  on 
light  occasion  disturb  your  sorrow;  but  my  days  are 
numbered,  your  mother-in-law  is  in  the  extremity  of  age, 
and,  if  I  see  her  not  to-day,  we  may  never  meet  on  this 
side  of  time.' 

'And  what,'  answered  the  desolate  mother,  'wad  ye 
see  at  an  auld  woman,  broken  down  wi'  age  and  sorrow 


14 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

and  heartbreak?  Gentle  or  semple  shall  not  darken  my 
doors  the  day  my  bairn's  been  carried  out  a  corpse.' 

While  she  spoke  thus,  indulging  the  natural  irritabil- 
ity of  disposition  and  profession,  which  began  to  mingle 
itself  in  some  degree  with  her  grief  when  its  first  uncon- 
trolled bursts  were  gone  by,  she  held  the  door  about  one- 
third  part  open,  and  placed  herself  in  the  gap,  as  if  to 
render  the  visitor's  entrance  impossible.  But  the  voice 
of  her  husband  was  heard  from  within  —  ^  Wha's  that, 
Maggie?  what  for  are  ye  steeking  them  out?  Let  them 
come  in;  it  doesna  signify  an  auld  rope's  end  wha  comes 
in  or  wha  gaes  out  o'  this  house  frae  this  time  forward.' 

The  woman  stood  aside  at  her  husband's  command, 
and  permitted  Lord  Glenallan  to  enter  the  hut.  The 
dejection  exhibited  in  his  broken  frame  and  emaciated 
countenance  formed  a  strong  contrast  with  the  effects  of 
grief  as  they  were  displayed  in  the  rude  and  weather- 
beaten  visage  of  the  fisherman  and  the  masculine  fea- 
tures of  his  wife.  He  approached  the  old  woman  as  she 
was  seated  on  her  usual  settle,  and  asked  her,  in  a  tone  as 
audible  as  his  voice  could  make  it,  ^Are  you  Elspeth  of 
the  Craigburnfoot  of  Glenallan?' 

*Wha  is  it  that  asks  about  the  unhallowed  residence 
of  that  evil  woman?'  was  the  answer  returned  to  his 
query. 

'The  unhappy  Earl  of  Glenallan.' 
'Earl  —  Earl  of  Glenallan!' 

'He  who  was  called  William  Lord  Geraldin,'  said  the 
Earl,  'and  whom  his  mother's  death  has  made  Earl  of 
Glenallan.' 

'  Open  the  bole,'  said  the  old  woman  firmly  and  hastily 
to  her  daughter-in-law  —  'open  the  bole  wi'  speed,  that 

IS 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


I  may  see  if  this  be  the  right  Lord  Geraldin,  the  son  of 
my  mistress,  him  that  I  received  in  my  arms  within  the 
hour  after  he  was  born,  him  that  has  reason  to  curse  me 
that  I  didna  smother  him  before  the  hour  was  past!' 

The  window,  which  had  been  shut  in  order  that  a 
gloomy  twilight  might  add  to  the  solemnity  of  the  fune- 
ral meeting,  was  opened  as  she  commanded,  and  threw 
a  sudden  and  strong  light  through  the  smoky  and  misty 
atmosphere  of  the  stifling  cabin.  Falling  in  a  stream 
upon  the  chimney,  the  rays  illuminated,  in  the  way  that 
Rembrandt  would  have  chosen,  the  features  of  the  un- 
fortunate nobleman  and  those  of  the  old  sibyl,  who  now, 
standing  upon  her  feet  and  holding  him  by  one  hand, 
peered  anxiously  in  his  features  with  her  Hght  blue  eyes, 
and,  holding  her  long  and  withered  forefinger  within  a 
small  distance  of  his  face,  moved  it  slowly  as  if  to  trace 
the  outhnes,  and  reconcile  what  she  recollected  with  that 
she  now  beheld.  As  she  finished  her  scrutiny,  she  said, 
with  a  deep  sigh,  ^It's  a  sair,  sair  change;  and  wha's 
fault  is  it?  but  that's  written  down  where  it  will  be  re- 
membered —  it's  written  on  tablets  of  brass  with  a  pen 
of  steel,  where  all  is  recorded  that  is  done  in  the  flesh. 
And  what,'  she  said,  after  a  pause  —  ^  what  is  Lord  Ger- 
aldin seeking  from  a  puir  auld  creature  hke  me,  that's 
dead  already,  and  only  belangs  sae  far  to  the  living  that 
she  isna  yet  laid  in  the  moulds? ' 

^Nay,'  answered  Lord  Glenallan,  ^in  the  name  of 
Heaven,  why  was  it  that  you  requested  so  urgently  to 
see  me?  and  why  did  you  back  your  request  by  send- 
ing a  token  which  you  knew  well  I  dared  not  refuse?' 

As  he  spoke  thus,  he  took  from  his  purse  the  ring 
which  Edie  Ochiltree  had  deUvered  to  him  at  Glenallan 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

House.  The  sight  of  this  token  produced  a  strange  and 
instantaneous  effect  upon  the  old  woman.  The  palsy  of 
fear  was  immediately  added  to  that  of  age,  and  she  be- 
gan instantly  to  search  her  pockets  with  the  tremulous 
and  hasty  agitation  of  one  who  becomes  first  apprehen- 
sive of  having  lost  something  of  great  importance;  then, 
as  if  convinced  of  the  reality  of  her  fears,  she  turned  to 
the  Earl,  and  demanded,  'And  how  came  ye  by  it  then? 
how  came  ye  by  it?  I  thought  I  had  kept  it  sae  securely. 
What  will  the  Countess  say? ' 

*  You  know,'  said  the  Earl  —  'at  least  you  must  have 
heard,  that  my  mother  is  dead.' 

'Dead!  are  ye  no  imposing  upon  me?  Has  she  left  a' 
at  last  —  lands  and  lordship  and  lineages? ' 

'AH,  all,'  said  the  Earl,  ^as  mortals  must  leave  all 
human  vanities.' 

'I  mind  now,'  answered  Elspeth,  'I  heard  of  it  before; 
but  there  has  been  sic  distress  in  our  house  since,  and  my 
memory  is  sae  muckle  impaired.  But  ye  are  sure  your 
mother,  the  Lady  Countess,  is  gane  hame?' 

The  Earl  again  assured  her  that  her  former  mistress 
was  no  more. 

'Then,'  said  Elspeth,  'it  shall  burden  my  mind  nae 
langer!  When  she  Hved,  wha  dared  to  speak  what  it 
would  hae  displeased  her  to  hae  had  noised  abroad?  But 
she's  gane,  and  I  will  confess  all.' 

Then,  turning  to  her  son  and  daughter-in-law,  she  com- 
manded them  imperatively  to  quit  the  house,  and  leave 
Lord  Geraldin  (for  so  she  still  called  him)  alone  with  her. 
But  Maggie  Mucklebackit,  her  first  burst  of  grief  being 
over,  was  by  no  means  disposed  in  her  own  house  to  pay 
passive  obedience  to  the  commands  of  her  mother-in- 
6  17 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


law,  an  authority  which  is  peculiarly  obnoxious  to  per- 
sons in  her  rank  of  Hfe,  and  which  she  was  the  more 
astonished  at  hearing  revived,  when  it  seemed  to  have 
been  so  long  relinquished  and  forgotten. 

'It  was  an  unco  thing,'  she  said,  in  a  grumbhng  tone 
of  voice,  for  the  rank  of  Lord  Glenallan  was  somewhat 
imposing  —  ^  It  was  an  unco  thing  to  bid  a  mother  leave 
her  ain  house  wi'  the  tear  in  her  ee,  the  moment  her 
eldest  son  had  been  carried  a  corpse  out  at  the  door  o 't.' 

The  jSsherman,  in  a  stubborn  and  sullen  tone,  added 
to  the  same  purpose  —  'This  is  nae  day  for  your  auld- 
warld  stories,  mother.  My  lord,  if  he  be  a  lord,  may  ca' 
some  other  day,  or  he  may  speak  out  what  he  has  gotten 
to  say  if  he  likes  it.  There 's  nane  here  will  think  it  worth 
their  while  to  Usten  to  him  or  you  either.  But  neither  for 
laird  or  loon,  gentle  or  semple,  will  I  leave  my  ain  house 
to  pleasure  ony  body  on  the  very  day  my  poor  — ' 

Here  his  voice  choked  and  he  could  proceed  no  farther ; 
but  as  he  had  risen  when  Lord  Glenallan  came  in,  and 
had  since  remained  standing,  he  now  threw  himself  dog- 
gedly upon  a  seat,  and  remained  in  the  sullen  posture  of 
one  who  was  determined  to  keep  his  word. 

But  the  old  woman,  whom  this  crisis  seemed  to  repos- 
sess in  all  those  powers  of  mental  superiority  with  which 
she  had  once  been  eminently  gifted,  arose,  and,  advanc- 
ing towards  him,  said  with  a  solemn  voice,  'My  son,  as 
ye  wad  shun  hearing  of  your  mother's  shame,  as  ye  wad 
not  willingly  be  a  witness  of  her  guilt,  as  ye  wad  deserve 
her  blessing  and  avoid  her  curse,  I  charge  ye,  by  the 
body  that  bore  and  that  nursed  ye,  to  leave  me  at  free- 
dom to  speak  with  Lord  Geraldin  what  nae  mortal  ears 
but  his  ain  maun  Hsten  to.  Obey  my  words,  that  when 

i8 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


ye  lay  the  moulds  on  my  head  —  and  O,  that  the  day 
were  come!  —  ye  may  remember  this  hour  without  the 
reproach  of  having  disobeyed  the  last  earthly  command 
that  ever  your  mother  wared  on  you.' 

The  terms  of  this  solemn  charge  revived  in  the  fisher- 
man's heart  the  habit  of  instinctive  obedience  in  which 
his  mother  had  trained  him  up,  and  to  which  he  had 
submitted  implicitly  while  her  powers  of  exacting  it 
remained  entire.  The  recollection  mingled  also  with  the 
prevailing  passion  of  the  moment;  for,  glancing  his  eye  at 
the  bed  on  which  the  dead  body  had  been  laid,  he  mut- 
tered to  himself,  ^He  never  disobeyed  me,  in  reason  or 
out  o'  reason,  and  what  for  should  I  vex  her?^  Then 
taking  his  reluctant  spouse  by  the  arm,  he  led  her  gently 
out  of  the  cottage  and  latched  the  door  behind  them  as 
he  left  it. 

As  the  unhappy  parents  withdrew,  Lord  Glenallan,  to 
prevent  the  old  woman  from  relapsing  into  her  lethargy, 
again  pressed  her  on  the  subject  of  the  communication 
which  she  proposed  to  make  to  him. 

^  Ye  will  have  it  sune  eneugh,'  she  repHed;  'my  mind 's 
clear  eneugh  now,  and  there  is  not  —  I  think  there  is 
not  —  a  chance  of  my  forgetting  what  I  have  to  say. 
My  dwelHng  at  Craigburnfoot  is  before  my  een,  as  it  were 
present  in  reality  —  the  green  bank,  with  its  selvidge, 
just  where  the  burn  met  wi'  the  sea;  the  twa  Httle  barks, 
wi'  their  sails  furled,  lying  in  the  natural  cove  which  it 
formed;  the  high  cliff  that  joined  it  with  the  pleasure- 
grounds  of  the  house  of  Glenallan,  and  hung  right  ower 
the  stream.  Ah!  yes,  I  may  forget  that  I  had  a  husband 
and  have  lost  him,  that  I  hae  but  ane  alive  of  our  four 
fair  sons,  that  misfortune  upon  misfortune  has  devoured 

19 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


our  ill-gotten  wealth,  that  they  carried  the  corpse  of  my 
son's  eldest-born  frae  the  house  this  morning;  but  I 
never  can  forget  the  days  I  spent  at  bonny  Craigburn- 
foot!^ 

*You  were  a  favourite  of  my  mother,'  said  Lord 
Glenallan,  desirous  to  bring  her  back  to  the  point,  from 
which  she  was  wandering. 

was  —  I  was;  ye  needna  mind  me  o'  that.  She 
brought  me  up  abune  my  station,  and  wi'  knowledge 
mair  than  my  fellows;  but,  Uke  the  tempter  of  auld,  wi' 
the  knowledge  of  gude  she  taught  me  the  knowledge  of 
evil.' 

^For  God's  sake,  Elspeth,'  said  the  astonished  Earl, 
'proceed,  if  you  can,  to  explain  the  dreadful  hints  you 
have  thrown  out!  I  well  know  you  are  confidant  to  one 
dreadful  secret,  which  should  spUt  this  roof  even  to  hear 
it  named;  but  speak  on  farther.' 

'  I  will,'  she  said  — '  I  will ;  just  bear  wi'  me  for  a  Kttle' ; 
and  again  she  seemed  lost  in  recollection,  but  it  was  no 
longer  tinged  with  imbeciHty  or  apathy.  She  was  now 
entering  upon  the  topic  which  had  long  loaded  her  mind, 
and  which  doubtless  often  occupied  her  whole  soul  at 
times  when  she  seemed  dead  to  all  around  her.  And  I 
may  add  as  a  remarkable  fact,  that  such  was  the  intense 
operation  of  mental  energy  upon  her  physical  powers 
and  nervous  system,  that,  notwithstanding  her  infirmity 
of  deafness,  each  word  that  Lord  Glenallan  spoke  during 
this  remarkable  conference,  although  in  the  lowest  tone 
of  horror  or  agony,  fell  as  full  and  distinct  upon  Elspeth's 
ear  as  it  could  have  done  at  any  period  of  her  life.  She 
spoke  also  herself  clearly,  distinctly,  and  slowly,  as  if 
anxious  that  the  intelligence  she  communicated  should 

20 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

be  fully  understood  —  concisely  at  the  same  time,  and 
with  none  of  the  verbiage  or  circumlocutory  additions 
natural  to  those  of  her  sex  and  condition.  In  short,  her 
language  bespoke  a  better  education,  as  well  as  an  un- 
commonly firm  and  resolved  mind,  and  a  character  of 
that  sort  from  which  great  virtues  or  great  crimes  may 
be  naturally  expected.  The  tenor  of  her  communication 
is  disclosed  in  the  following  chapter. 


CHAPTER  XXXIII 


Remorse  —  she  ne  'er  forsakes  us.^ 
A  bloodhound  stanch,  she  tracks  our  rapid  step 
Through  the  wild  labyrinth  of  youthful  frenzy, 
Unheard,  perchance,  until  old  age  hath  tamed  us; 
Then  in  our  lair,  when  Time  hath  chill'd  our  joints. 
And  maim'd  our  hope  of  combat,  or  of  flight. 
We  hear  her  deep-mouth'd  bay,  announcing  all 
Of  wrath  and  woe  and  punishment  that  bides  us. 

Old  Play. 

*I  NEED  not  tell  you,'  said  the  old  woman,  addressing  the 
Earl  of  Glenallan,  *  that  I  was  the  favourite  and  confi- 
dential attendant  of  JosceUnd,  Countess  of  Glenallan, 
whom  God  assoilzie!  (here  she  crossed  herself)  and  I 
think,  farther,  ye  may  not  have  forgotten  that  I  shared 
her  regard  for  mony  years.  I  returned  it  by  the  maist 
sincere  attachment,  but  I  fell  into  disgrace  frae  a 
trifling  act  of  disobedience,  reported  to  your  mother  by 
ane  that  thought  —  and  she  wasna  wrang  —  that  I  was 
a  spy  upon  her  actions  and  yours.' 

*I  charge  thee,  woman,'  said  the  Earl,  in  a  voice  trem- 
bling with  passion,  'name  not  her  name  in  my  hearing!' 

'I  MUST,'  returned  the  penitent  firmly  and  calmly,  'or 
how  can  you  understand  me? ' 

The  Earl  leaned  upon  one  of  the  wooden  chairs  of  the 
hut,  drew  his  hat  over  his  face,  clenched  his  hands  to- 
gether, set  his  teeth  Hke  one  who  summons  up  courage 
to  undergo  a  painful  operation,  and  made  a  signal  to  her 
to  proceed. 

'I  say  then,'  she  resumed,  'that  my  disgrace  with  my 
mistress  was  chiefly  owing  to  Miss  Eveline  Neville,  then  ' 

22 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

bred  up  in  Glenallan  House  as  the  daughter  of  a  cousin- 
german  and  intimate  friend  of  your  father  that  was  gane. 
There  was  muckle  mystery  in  her  history,  but  wha  dared 
to  inquire  farther  than  the  Countess  liked  to  tell?  All  in 
Glenallan  House  loved  Miss  Neville  —  all  but  twa,  your 
mother  and  my  sell;  we  baith  hated  her.' 

^God!  for  what  reason,  since  a  creature  so  mild,  so 
gentle,  so  formed  to  inspire  affection  never  walked  on 
this  wretched  world?' 

*It  may  hae  been  sae,'  rejoined  Elspeth,  'but  your 
mother  hated  a'  that  cam  of  your  father's  family  —  a' 
but  himselL  Her  reasons  related  to  strife  which  fell  be- 
tween them  soon  after  her  marriage;  the  particulars  are 
naething  to  this  purpose.  But  O,  doubly  did  she  hate 
Eveline  Neville  when  she  perceived  that  there  was  a 
growing  kindness  atween  you  and  that  unfortunate 
young  leddy!  Ye  may  mind  that  the  Countess's  dislike 
didna  gang  farther  at  first  than  just  showing  o'  the  cauld 
shouther  —  at  least  it  wasna  seen  farther;  but  at  the 
lang  run  it  brak  out  into  such,  downright  violence  that 
Miss  Neville  was  even  fain  to  seek  refuge  at  Knockwin- 
nock  Castle  with  Sir  Arthur's  leddy,  wha  —  God  sain 
her!  —  was  then  wi'  the  living.' 

'You  rend  my  heart  by  recalling  these  particulars. 
But  go  on,  and  may  my  present  agony  be  accepted  as 
additional  penance  for  the  involuntary  crime!' 

'She  had  been  absent  some  months,'  continued  El- 
speth, 'when  I  was  ae  night  watching  in  my  hut  the 
return  of  my  husband  from  fishing,  and  shedding  in 
private  those  bitter  tears  that  my  proud  spirit  wrung 
frae  me  whenever  I  thought  on  my  disgrace.  The  sneck 
was  drawn,  and  the  Countess,  your  mother,  entered  my 

23 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


dwelling.  I  thought  I  had  seen  a  spectre,  for,  even  in  the 
height  of  my  favour,  this  was  an  honour  she  had  never 
done  me,  and  she  looked  as  pale  and  ghastly  as  if  she  had 
risen  from  the  grave.  She  sate  down  and  wrung  the 
draps  from  her  hair  and  cloak,  for  the  night  was  drizzling, 
and  her  walk  had  been  through  the  plantations,  that 
were  a'  loaded  with  dew.  I  only  mention  these  things 
that  you  may  understand  how  weel  that  night  lives  in 
my  memory,  —  and  weel  it  may.  I  was  surprised  to  see 
her,  but  I  durstna  speak  first,  mair  than  if  I  had  seen  a 
phantom.  Na,  I  durst  not,  my  lord,  I  that  hae  seen  mony 
sights  of  terror,  and  never  shook  at  them.  Sae,  after  a 
silence,  she  said,  "Elspeth  Cheyne"  —  for  she  always 
gave  me  my  maiden  name  —  "are  not  ye  the  daughter 
of  that  Reginald  Cheyne  who  died  to  save  his  master, 
Lord  Glenallan,  on  the  field  of  Sheriffmuir?"  And  I 
answered  her  as  proudly  as  hersell  nearly  —  "As  sure 
as  you  are  the  daughter  of  that  Earl  of  Glenallan  whom 
my  father  saved  that  day  by  his  own  death."' 
Here  she  made  a  deep  pause. 

^And  what  followed?  what  followed?  For  Heaven's 
sake,  good  woman  —  But  why  should  I  use  that  word? 
Yet,  good  or  bad,  I  command  you  to  tell  me.' 

*  And  little  I  should  value  earthly  command, 'answered 
Elspeth,  'were  there  not  a  voice  that  has  spoken  to  me 
sleeping  and  waking,  that  drives  me  forward  to  tell  this 
sad  tale.  Aweel,  my  lord,  the  Countess  said  to  me,  "My 
son  loves  Eveline  Neville;  they  are  agreed,  they  are 
plighted.  Should  they  have  a  son  my  right  over  Glen- 
allan merges :  I  sink  from  that  moment  from  a  Countess 
into  a  miserable  stipendiary  dowager;  I,  who  brought 
lands  and  vassals,  and  high  blood  and  ancient  fame  to 


24 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


my  husband,  I  must  cease  to  be  mistress  when  my  son 
has  an  heir-male.  But  I  care  not  for  that;  had  he  mar- 
ried any  but  one  of  the  hated  Nevilles,  I  had  been  pa- 
tient. But  for  them  —  that  they  and  their  descendants 
should  enjoy  the  right  and  honours  of  my  ancestors  goes 
through  my  heart  like  a  two-edged  dirk.  And  this  girl  — 
I  detest  her!"  And  I  answered,  for  my  heart  kindled  at 
her  words,  that  her  hate  was  equalled  by  mine.' 

*  Wretch!'  exclaimed  the  Earl,  in  spite  of  his  determ- 
ination to  preserve  silence  —  *  wretched  woman!  what 
cause  of  hate  could  have  arisen  from  a  being  so  innocent 
and  gentle?' 

hated  what  my  mistress  hated,  as  was  the  use  with 
the  liege  vassals  of  the  house  of  Glenallan;  for  though, 
my  lord,  I  married  under  my  degree,  yet  an  ancestor  of 
yours  never  went  to  the  field  of  battle  but  an  ancestor  of 
the  frail,  demented,  auld,  useless  wretch  wha  now  speaks 
with  you  carried  his  shield  before  him.  But  that  was  not 
aV  continued  the  beldam,  her  earthly  and  evil  passions 
rekindling  as  she  became  heated  in  her  narration  — 
'  that  was  not  a' ;  I  hated  Miss  Eveline  Neville  for  her 
ain  sake.  I  brought  her  frae  England,  and  during  our 
whole  journey  she  gecked  and  scorned  at  my  northern 
speech  and  habit,  as  her  southland  leddies  and  kimmers 
had  done  at  the  boarding-school,  as  they  ca'd  it  (and, 
strange  as  it  may  seem,  she  spoke  of  an  affront  offered  by 
a  heedless  school-girl  without  intention  with  a  degree  of 
inveteracy  which,  at  such  a  distance  of  time,  a  mortal 
offence  would  neither  have  authorised  or  excited  in  any 
well-constituted  mind).  Yes,  she  scorned  and  jested  at 
me ;  but  let  them  that  scorn  the  tartan  fear  the  dirk ! ' 
She  paused,  and  then  went  on.  'But  I  deny  not  that 

25 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


I  hated  her  mair  than  she  deserved.  My  mistress,  the 
Countess,  persevered  and  said,  "Elspeth  Cheyne,  this 
unruly  boy  will  marry  with  the  false  English  blood. 
Were  days  as  they  have  been,  I  could  throw  her  into  the 
massymore  of  Glenallan,  and  fetter  him  in  the  keep  of 
StrathbonneL  But  these  times  are  past,  and  the  author- 
ity which  the  nobles  of  the  land  should  exercise  is  dele- 
gated to  quibbling  lawyers  and  their  baser  dependents. 
Hear  me,  Elspeth  Cheyne!  If  you  are  your  father's 
daughter  as  I  am  mine,  I  will  find  means  that  they  shall  not 
marry.  She  walks  often  to  that  cliff  that  overhangs  your 
dwelling  to  look  for  her  lover's  boat"  —  ye  may  remem- 
ber the  pleasure  ye  then  took  on  the  sea,  my  lord  —  "let 
him  find  her  forty  fathom  lower  than  he  expects ! "  Yes! 
ye  may  stare  and  frown  and  clench  your  hand,  but,  as 
sure  as  I  am  to  face  the  only  Being  I  ever  feared  —  and  0 
that  I  had  feared  Him  mair !  —  these  were  your  mother's 
words.  What  avails  it  to  me  to  lie  to  you?  But  I  wadna 
consent  to  stain  my  hand  with  blood.  Then  she  said, 
**Bythe  religion  of  our  holy  Church  they  are  ower  sib 
thegither.  But  I  expect  nothing  but  that  both  will  be- 
come heretics  as  well  as  disobedient  reprobates,"  that 
was  her  addition  to  that  argument.  And  then,  as  the 
fiend  is  ever  ower  busy  wi'  brains  like  mine,  that  are  sub- 
tle beyond  their  use  and  station,  I  was  unhappily  per- 
mitted to  add  —  "But  they  might  be  brought  to  think 
themselves  sae  sib  as  no  Christian  law  will  permit  their 
wedlock.'" 

Here  the  Earl  of  Glenallan  echoed  her  words  with  a 
shriek  so  piercing  as  almost  to  rend  the  roof  of  the  cot- 
tage —  'Ah!  then  Eveline  Neville  was  not  the  —  the  — ' 

*The  daughter,  ye  would  say,  of  your  father?'  con- 
26 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


tmued  Elspeth.  ^ No;  be  it  a  torment  or  be  it  a  comfort 
to  you,  ken  the  truth,  she  was  nae  mair  a  daughter  of 
your  father's  house  than  I  am/ 

^  Woman,  deceive  me  not ;  make  me  not  curse  the  mem- 
ory of  the  parent  I  have  so  lately  laid  in  the  grave,  for 
sharing  in  a  plot  the  most  cruel,  the  most  infernal  — ' 

*  Bethink  ye,  my  Lord  Geraldin,  ere  ye  curse  the  mem- 
ory of  a  parent  that 's  gane,  is  there  none  of  the  blood  of 
Glenallan  living  whose  faults  have  led  to  this  dreadfu' 
catastrophe?' 

^Mean  you  my  brother?  he  too  is  gone,'  said  the  Earl. 

'No,'  replied  the  sibyl, '  I  mean  yoursell,  Lord  Geraldin. 
Had  you  not  transgressed  the  obedience  of  a  son  by  wed- 
ding Eveline  Neville  in  secret  while  a  guest  at  Knock- 
winnock,  our  plot  might  have  separated  you  for  a  time, 
but  would  have  left  at  least  your  sorrows  without  re- 
morse to  canker  them.  But  your  ain  conduct  had  put 
poison  in  the  weapon  that  we  threw,  and  it  pierced  you 
with  the  mair  force  because  ye  cam  rushing  to  meet  it. 
Had  your  marriage  been  a  proclaimed  and  acknowledged 
action,  our  stratagem  to  throw  an  obstacle  into  your  way 
that  couldna  be  got  ower  neither  wad  nor  could  hae  been 
practised  against  ye.' 

*  Great  Heaven ! '  said  the  unfortunate  nobleman, '  it  is 
as  if  a  film  fell  from  my  obscured  eyes!  Yes,  I  now  well 
understand  the  doubtful  hints  of  consolation  thrown  out 
by  my  wretched  mother,  tending  indirectly  to  impeach 
the  evidence  of  the  horrors  of  which  her  arts  had  led  me 
to  believe  myself  guilty.' 

'She  could  not  speak  mair  plainly,'  answered  Elspeth, 
^without  confessing  her  ain  fraud,  and  she  would  have 
submitted  to  be  torn  by  wild  horses  rather  than  unfold 


27 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


what  she  had  done;  and,  if  she  had  still  lived,  so  would 
I  for  her  sake.  They  were  stout  hearts  the  race  of  Glen- 
allan,  male  and  female,  and  sae  were  a'  that  in  auld  times 
cried  their  gathering- word  of  ^'Clochnaben";  they  stood 
shouther  to  shouther.  Nae  man  parted  frae  his  chief  for 
love  of  gold  or  of  gain,  or  of  right  or  of  wrang.  The  times 
are  changed,  I  hear  now/ 

The  unfortunate  nobleman  was  too  much  wrapped  up 
in  his  own  confused  and  distracting  reflections  to  notice 
the  rude  expressions  of  savage  fidelity,  in  which,  even  in 
the  latest  ebb  of  life,  the  unhappy  author  of  his  misfor- 
tunes seemed  to  find  a  stern  and  stubborn  source  of  con- 
solation, 

'  Great  Heaven!'  he  exclaimed,  am  then  free  from  a 
guilt  the  most  horrible  with  which  man  can  be  stained, 
and  the  sense  of  which,  however  involuntary,  has  wrecked 
my  peace,  destroyed  my  health,  and  bowed  me  down  to 
an  untimely  grave.  Accept,'  he  fervently  uttered,  lifting 
his  eyes  upwards  —  ^accept  my  humble  thanks!  If  I 
live  miserable,  at  least  I  shall  not  die  stained  with  that 
unnatural  guilt !  And  thou,  proceed,  if  thou  hast  more  to 
tell  —  proceed,  while  thou  hast  voice  to  speak  it  and 
I  have  powers  to  listen.' 

*  Yes,'  answered  the  beldam,  Hhe  hour  when  you  shall 
hear  and  I  shall  speak  is  indeed  passing  rapidly  away. 
Death  has  crossed  your  brow  with  his  finger,  and  I  find 
his  grasp  turning  every  day  caulder  at  my  heart.  Inter- 
rupt me  nae  mair  with  exclamations  and  groans  and  ac- 
cusations, but  hear  my  tale  to  an  end !  And  then  —  if  ye 
be  indeed  sic  a  Lord  of  Glenallan  as  I  hae  heard  of  in  my 
day  —  make  your  merrymen  gather  the  thorn,  and  the 
brier,  and  the  green  hoUin,  till  they  heap  them  as  high  as 

28 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


the  house-riggin',  and  burn  —  burn  —  burn  the  auld 
witch  Elspeth,  and  a'  that  can  put  ye  in  mind  that  sic  a 
creature  ever  crawled  upon  the  land!' 

^  Go  on/  said  the  Earl  —  *  go  on;  I  will  not  again  inter- 
rupt you/ 

He  spoke  in  a  half-suffocated  yet  determined  voice,  re- 
solved that  no  irritability  on  his  part  should  deprive  him 
of  this  opportunity  of  acquiring  proofs  of  the  wonderful 
tale  he  then  heard.  But  Elspeth  had  become  exhausted  by 
a  continuous  narration  of  such  unusual  length;  the  subse- 
quent part  of  her  story  was  more  broken,  and,  though 
still  distinctly  intelligible  in  most  parts,  had  no  longer  the 
lucid  conciseness  which  the  first  part  of  her  narrative  had 
displayed  to  such  an  astonishing  degree.  Lord  Glenallan 
found  it  necessary,  when  she  had  made  some  attempts  to 
continue  her  narrative  without  success,  to  prompt  her 
memory,  by  demanding  what  proofs  she  could  propose 
to  bring  of  the  truth  of  a  narrative  so  different  from  that 
which  she  had  originally  told. 

*The  evidence,'  she  replied,  ^of  Eveline  Neville's  real 
birth  was  in  the  Countess's  possession,  with  reasons  for 
its  being  for  some  time  kept  private.  They  may  yet  be 
found,  if  she  has  not  destroyed  them,  in  the  left-hand 
drawer  of  the  ebony  cabinet  that  stood  in  the  dressing- 
room;  these  she  meant  to  suppress  for  the  time,  until  you 
went  abroad  again,  when  she  trusted,  before  your  return, 
to  send  Miss  Neville  back  to  her  ain  country  or  to  get  her 
settled  in  marriage.' 

'  But  did  you  not  show  me  letters  of  my  father's  which 
seemed  to  me,  unless  my  senses  altogether  failed  me  in 
that  horrible  moment,  to  avow  his  relationship  to  —  to 
the  unhappy  — ' 

2Q 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


*We  did;  and,  with  my  testimony,  how  could  you 
doubt  the  fact,  or  her  either?  But  we  suppressed  the  true 
explanation  of  these  letters,  and  that  was,  that  your  fa- 
ther thought  it  right  the  young  leddy  should  pass  for  his 
daughter  for  a  while,  on  account  o'  some  family  reasons 
that  were  amang  them/ 

^But  wherefore,  when  you  learned  our  union,  was  this 
dreadful  artifice  persisted  in? ' 

'It  wasna,'  she  replied,  'till  Lady  Glenallan  had  com- 
municated this  fause  tale  that  she  suspected  ye  had  ac- 
tually made  a  marriage;  nor  even  then  did  you  avow  it 
sae  as  to  satisfy  her  whether  the  ceremony  had  in  verity 
passed  atween  ye  or  no.  But  ye  remember  —  O  ye  canna 
but  remember — weel  what  passed  in  that  awf  u'  meeting ! ' 
*  'Woman!  you  swore  upon  the  Gospels  to  the  fact 
which  you  now  disavow.' 

'  I  did,  and  I  wad  hae  taen  a  yet  mair  holy  pledge  on  it, 
if  there  had  been  ane;  I  wad  not  hae  spared  the  blood  of 
my  body  or  the  guilt  of  my  soul  to  serve  the  house  of 
Glenallan.' 

'Wretch!  do  you  call  that  horrid  perjury,  attended 
with  consequences  yet  more  dreadful  —  do  you  esteem 
that  a  service  to  the  house  of  your  benefactors?' 

'I  served  her  wha  was  then  the  head  of  Glenallan  as 
she  required  me  to  serve  her.  The  cause  was  between 
God  and  her  conscience,  the  manner  between  God  and 
mine.  She  is  gane  to  her  account,  and  I  maun  follow. 
Have  I  tauld  ye  a'  ? ' 

'No,'  answered  Lord  Glenallan;  'you  have  yet  more  to 
tell :  you  have  to  tell  me  of  the  death  of  the  angel  whom 
your  perjury  drove  to  despair,  stained,  as  she  thought 
herself,,  with  a  crime  so  horrible.  Speak  truth:  was  that 

30 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


dreadful  —  was  that  horrible  incident/  he  could  scarcely 
articulate  the  words  —  *was  it  as  reported?  or  was  it  an 
act  of  yet  further,  though  not  more  atrocious,  cruelty 
inflicted  by  others?' 

*I  understand  you,'  said  Elspeth;  ^but  report  spoke 
truth:  our  false  witness  was  indeed  the  cause,  but  the 
deed  was  her  ain  distracted  act.  On  that  fearfu'  disclos- 
ure, when  ye  rushed  frae  the  Countess's  presence  and 
saddled  your  horse  and  left  the  castle  like  a  fire-flaught, 
the  Countess  hadna  yet  discovered  your  private  mar- 
riage; she  hadna  fund  out  that  the  union,  which  she  had 
framed  this  awfu'  tale  to  prevent,  had  e'en  taen  place. 
Ye  fled  from  the  house  as  if  the  fire  o'  Heaven  was  about 
to  fa'  upon  it,  and  Miss  Neville,  atween  reason  and  the 
want  o't,  was  put  under  sure  ward.  But  the  ward  sleep't 
and  the  prisoner  waked,  the  window  was  open,  the  way 
was  before  her,  there  was  the  cliflf,  and  there  was  the  sea! 
O,  when  will  I  forget  that!' 

^And  thus  died,'  said  the  Earl,  'even  so  as  was  re- 
ported? ' 

'No,  my  lord.  I  had  gane  out  to  the  cove;  the  tide  was 
in,  and  it  flowed,  as  ye '11  remember,  to  the  foot  of  that 
cliff;  it  was  a  great  convenience  that  for  my  husband's 
trade.  Where  am  I  wandering?  I  saw  a  white  object 
dart  frae  the  tap  o'  the  cliff  like  a  sea-maw  through  the 
mist,  and  then  a  heavy  flash  and  sparkle  of  the  waters 
showed  me  it  was  a  human  creature  that  had  fa'en  into 
the  waves.  I  was  bold  and  strong,  and  familiar  with  the 
tide.  I  rushed  in  and  grasped  her  gown,  and  drew  her  out 
and  carried  her  on  my  shouthers  —  I  could  hae  carried 
twa  sic  then  —  carried  her  to  my  hut,  and  laid  her  on  my 
bed.  Neighbours  cam  and  brought  help;  but  the  words 

31 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


she  uttered  in  her  ravings,  when  she  got  back  the  use  of 
speech,  were  such  that  I  was  fain  to  send  them  awa,  and 
get  up  word  to  Glenallan  House.  The  Countess  sent 
down  her  Spanish  servant  Teresa  —  if  ever  there  was  a 
fiend  on  earth  in  hiunan  form  that  woman  was  ane.  She 
and  I  were  to  watch  the  unhappy  leddy,  and  let  no  other 
person  approach.  God  knows  what  Teresa's  part  was  to 
hae  been:  she  tauld  it  not  to  me;  but  Heaven  took  the 
conclusion  in  its  ain  hand.  The  poor  leddy!  she  took  the 
pangs  of  travail  before  her  time,  bore  a  male  child,  and 
died  in  the  arms  of  me  —  of  her  mortal  enemy!  Ay,  ye 
may  weep!  She  was  a  sightly  creature  to  see  to;  but 
think  ye,  if  I  didna  mourn  her  then,  that  I  can  mourn  her 
now?  Na,  na!  I  left  Teresa  wi'  the  dead  corpse  and  new- 
born babe  till  I  gaed  up  to  take  the  Countess's  commands 
what  was  to  be  done.  Late  as  it  was,  I  ca'd  her  up,  and 
she  gar'd  me  ca'  up  your  brother  — ' 
*My  brother?' 

'Yes,  Lord  Geraldin,  e'en  your  brother,  that  some 
said  she  aye  wished  to  be  her  heir.  At  ony  rate,  he  was 
the  person  maist  concerned  in  the  succession  and  herit- 
ance  of  the  house  of  Glenallan.^ 

'And  is  it  possible  to  believe,  then,  that  my  brother, 
out  of  avarice  to  grasp  at  my  inheritance,  would  lend 
himself  to  such  a  base  and  dreadful  stratagem?' 

'Your  mother  believed  it,'  said  the  old  beldam  with  a 
fiendish  laugh;  'it  was  nae  plot  of  my  making,  but  what 
they  did  or  said  I  will  not  say,  because  I  did  not  hear. 
Lang  and  sair  they  consulted  in  the  black  wainscot  dress- 
ing-room; and  when  your  brother  passed  through  the 
room  where  I  was  waiting  it  seemed  to  me  —  and  I  have 
often  thought  sae  since  syne  —  that  the  fire  of  hell  was 


32 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


in  his  cheek  and  een.  But  he  had  left  some  of  it  with  his 
mother  at  ony  rate.  She  entered  the  room  like  a  woman 
demented,  and  the  first  words  she  spoke  were,  "Elspeth 
Cheyne,  did  ye  ever  pull  a  new-budded  flower?"  I  an- 
swered, as  ye  may  believe,  that  I  often  had.  ^^Then,'* 
said  she,  "ye  will  ken  the  better  how  to  blight  the  spu- 
rious and  heretical  blossom  that  has  sprung  forth  this 
night  to  disgrace  my  father's  noble  house.  See  here  — 
and  she  gave  me  a  golden  bodkin  —  nothing  but  gold 
must  shed  the  blood  of  Glenallan.  This  child  is  already 
as  one  of  the  dead,  and  since  thou  and  Teresa  alone  ken 
that  it  lives,  let  it  be  dealt  upon  as  ye  will  answer  to  me ! " 
and  she  turned  away  in  her  fury,  and  left  me  with  the 
bodkin  in  my  hand.  Here  it  is :  that  and  the  ring  of  Miss 
Neville  are  a'  I  hae  preserved  of  my  ill-gotten  gear,  for 
muckle  was  the  gear  I  got.  And  weel  hae  I  keepit  the 
secret,  but  no  for  the  gowd  or  gear  either.' 

Her  long  and  bony  hand  held  out  to  Lord  Glenallan  a 
gold  bodkin,  down  which  in  fancy  he  saw  the  blood  of  his 
infant  trickling. 

'Wretch!  had  you  the  heart?' 

*I  kenna  if  I  could  hae  had  it  or  no.  I  returned  to  my 
cottage  without  feeling  the  ground  that  I  trode  on;  but 
Teresa  and  the  child  were  gane,  a'  that  was  alive  was 
gane  —  naething  left  but  the  lifeless  corpse.' 

'And  did  you  never  learn  my  infant's  fate?' 

'  I  could  but  guess.  I  have  tauld  ye  your  mother's  pur- 
pose, and  I  ken  Teresa  was  a  fiend.  She  was  never  mair 
seen  in  Scotland,  and  I  have  heard  that  she  returned  to 
her  ain  land.  A  dark  curtain  has  fa'en  ower  the  past,  and 
the  few  that  witnessed  ony  part  of  it  could  only  surmise 
something  of  seduction  and  suicide.  You  yourself  — ' 


6 


33 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


*I  know  —  I  know  it  all/  answered  the  Earl. 

'  You  indeed  know  all  that  I  can  say.  And  now,  heir  of 
Glenallan,  can  you  forgive  me? ' 

'Ask  forgiveness  of  God,  and  not  of  man,'  said  the 
Earl,  turning  away. 

'And  how  shall  I  ask  of  the  pure  and  unstained  what  is 
denied  to  me  by  a  sinner  like  mysell?  If  I  hae  sinned, 
hae  I  not  suffered?  Hae  I  had  a  day's  peace  or  an  hour's 
rest  since  these  lang  wet  locks  of  hair  first  lay  upon 
my  pillow  at  Craigburnfoot?  Has  not  my  house  been 
burned,  wi'  my  bairn  in  the  cradle?  Have  not  my 
boats  been  wrecked,  when  a'  others  weathered  the  gale? 
Have  not  a'  that  were  near  and  dear  to  me  dree'd  pen- 
ance for  my  sin?  Has  not  the  fire  had  its  share  o'  them, 
the  winds  had  their  part,  the  sea  had  her  part?  And 
oh!'  she  added,  with  a  lengthened  groan,  looking  first 
upwards  towards  heaven,  and  then  bending  her  eyes  on 
the  floor  —  *oh!  that  the  earth  would  take  her  part 
that's  been  lang,  lang  wearying  to  be  joined  to  it!' 

Lord  Glenallan  had  reached  the  door  of  the  cottage, 
but  the  generosity  of  his  nature  did  not  permit  him  to 
leave  the  unhappy  woman  in  this  state  of  desperate  re- 
probation. 'May  God  forgive  thee,  wretched  woman,' 
he  said,  'as  sincerely  as  I  do!  Turn  for  mercy  to  Him 
who  can  alone  grant  mercy,  and  may  your  prayers  be 
heard  as  if  they  were  mine  own!  I  will  send  a  religious 
man.' 

'Na,  na,  nae  priest!  nae  priest!'  she  ejaculated;  and 
the  door  of  the  cottage  opening  as  she  spoke  prevented 
her  from  proceeding. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV 


Still  in  his  dead  hand  clench'd  remain  the  strings 
That  thrill  his  father's  heart,  e'en  as  the  limb. 
Lopped  off  and  laid  in  grave,  retains,  they  tell  us, 
Strange  commerce  with  the  mutilated  stump, 
Whose  nerves  are  twinging  still  in  maim'd  existence. 

Old  Play. 

The  Antiquary,  as  we  informed  the  reader  in  the  end  of 
the  thirty-first  chapter,  had  shaken  off  the  company  of 
worthy  Mr.  Blattergowl,  although  he  offered  to  enter- 
tain him  with  an  abstract  of  the  ablest  speech  he  had 
ever  known  in  the  teind  court,  delivered  by  the  procura- 
tor for  the  church  in  the  remarkable  case  of  the  parish  of 
Gatherem.  Resisting  this  temptation,  our  senior  pre- 
ferred a  solitary  path,  which  again  conducted  him  to  the 
cottage  of  Mucklebackit.  When  he  came  in  front  of  the 
fisherman's  hut,  he  observed  a  man  working  intently,  as 
if  to  repair  a  shattered  boat  which  lay  upon  the  beach, 
and,  going  up  to  him,  was  surprised  to  find  it  was 
Mucklebackit  himself.  *I  am  glad,'  he  said,  in  a  tone  of 
sympathy  —  *  I  am  glad,  Saunders,  that  you  feel  your- 
self able  to  make  this  exertion.' 

^And  what  would  ye  have  me  to  do,'  answered  the 
fisher,  gruffly,  ^unless  I  wanted  to  see  four  children 
starve,  because  ane  is  drowned?  It's  weel  wi'  you  gen- 
tles, that  can  sit  in  the  house  wi'  handkerchers  at  your 
een  when  ye  lose  a  friend;  but  the  like  o'  us  maun  to  our 
wark  again,  if  our  hearts  were  beating  as  hard  as  my 
hammer.' 

Without  taking  more  notice  of  Oldbuck,  he  proceeded 
35 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

in  his  labour;  and  the  Antiquary,  to  whom  the  display  of 
human  nature  under  the  influence  of  agitating  passions 
was  never  indifferent,  stood  beside  him  in  silent  atten- 
tion, as  if  watching  the  progress  of  the  work.  He  ob- 
served more  than  once  the  man's  hard  features,  as  if  by 
the  force  of  association,  prepare  to  accompany  the  sound 
of  the  saw  and  hammer  with  his  usual  symphony  of  a 
rude  tune  hummed  or  whistled,  and  as  often  a  slight 
twitch  of  convulsive  expression  showed  that  ere  the 
sound  was  uttered  a  cause  for  suppressing  it  rushed  upon 
his  mind.  At  length,  when  he  had  patched  a  consider- 
able rent  and  was  beginning  to  mend  another,  his  feel- 
ings appeared  altogether  to  derange  the  power  of  atten- 
tion necessary  for  his  work.  The  piece  of  wood  which  he 
was  about  to  nail  on  was  at  first  too  long;  then  he  sawed 
it  off  too  short;  then  chose  another  equally  ill  adapted 
for  the  purpose.  At  length,  throwing  it  down  in  anger, 
after  wiping  his  dim  eye  with  his  quivering  hand,  he  ex- 
claimed, ^  There  is  a  curse  either  on  me  or  on  this  auld 
black  bitch  of  a  boat,  that  I  have  hauled  up  high  and  dry, 
and  patched  and  clouted  sae  mony  years,  that  she  might 
drown  my  poor  Steenie  at  the  end  of  them,  an'  be  d — d 
to  her!'  and  he  flung  his  hammer  against  the  boat,  as  if 
she  had  been  the  intentional  cause  of  his  misfortune. 
Then  recollecting  himself,  he  added,  ^Yet  what  needs 
ane  be  angry  at  her,  that  has  neither  soul  nor  sense? 
though  I  am  no  that  muckle  better  mysell.  She's  but  a 
rickle  o'  auld  rotten  deals  nailed  thegither,  and  warped 
wi'  the  wind  and  the  sea;  and  I  am  a  dour  carle,  battered 
by  foul  weather  at  sea  and  land  till  I  am  maist  as  sense- 
less as  hersell.  She  maun  be  mended  though  again'  the 
morning  tide;  that's  a  thing  o'  necessity/ 

36 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


Thus  speaking,  he  went  to  gather  together  his  instru- 
ments and  attempt  to  resume  his  labour,  but  Oldbuck 
took  him  kindly  by  the  arm.  ^Come,  come,'  he  said, 
'Saunders,  there  is  no  work  for  you  this  day;  I'll  send 
down  Shavings,  the  carpenter,  to  mend  the  boat,  and 
he  may  put  the  day's  work  into  my  account;  and  you 
had  better  not  come  out  to-morrow,  but  stay  to  comfort 
your  family  under  this  dispensation,  and  the  gardener 
will  bring  you  some  vegetables  and  meal  from  Monk- 
barns/ 

'I  thank  ye,  Monkbarns,'  answered  the  poor  fisher;  'I 
am  a  plain-spoken  man,  and  hae  Httle  to  say  for  mysell;  I 
might  hae  learned  fairer  fashions  frae  my  mither  lang 
syne,  but  I  never  saw  muckle  gude  they  did  her;  how- 
ever, I  thank  ye.  Ye  were  aye  kind  and  neighbourly, 
whatever  folk  says  o'  your  being  near  and  close;  and  I 
hae  often  said  in  thae  times  when  they  were  ganging  to 
raise  up  the  puir  folk  against  the  gentles  —  I  hae  often 
said,  ne'er  a  man  should  steer  a  hair  touching  to  Monk- 
barns  while  Steenie  and  I  could  wag  a  finger;  and  so  said 
Steenie  too.  And,  Monkbarns,  when  ye  laid  his  head  in 
the  grave  —  and  mony  thanks  for  the  respect  — ye 
saw  the  mouls  laid  on  an  honest  lad  that  likit  you  weel, 
though  he  made  little  phrase  about  it.' 

Oldbuck,  beaten  from  the  pride  of  his  affected  cyni- 
cism, would  not  willingly  have  had  any  one  by  upon  that 
occasion  to  quote  to  him  his  favourite  maxims  of  the 
Stoic  philosophy.  The  large  drops  fell  fast  from  his  own 
eyes  as  he  begged  the  father,  who  was  now  melted  at 
recollecting  the  bravery  and  generous  sentiments  of  his 
son,  to  forbear  useless  sorrow,  and  led  him  by  the  arm 
towards  his  own  home,  where  another  scene  awaited  our 

37 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


Antiquary.  As  he  entered,  the  first  person  whom  he 
beheld  was  Lord  Glenallan. 

Mutual  surprise  was  in  their  countenances  as  they 
saluted  each  other,  with  haughty  reserve  on  the  part  of 
Mr.  Oldbuck  and  embarrassment  on  that  of  the  Earl. 

'My  Lord  Glenallan,  I  think?'  said  Mr.  Oldbuck. 

'Yes,  much  changed  from  what  he  was  when  he  knew 
Mr.  Oldbuck.' 

'I  do  not  mean,'  said  the  Antiquary,  'to  intrude 
upon  your  lordship;  I  only  came  to  see  this  distressed 
family.' 

*And  you  have  found  one,  sir,  who  has  still  greater 
claims  on  your  compassion.' 

'My  compassion!  Lord  Glenallan  cannot  need  my 
compassion;  if  Lord  Glenallan  could  need  it,  I  think  he 
would  hardly  ask  it.' 

'  Our  former  acquaintance,'  said  the  Earl  — 

'Is  of  such  ancient  date,  my  lord,  was  of  such  short 
duration,  and  was  connected  with  circumstances  so 
exquisitely  painful,  that  I  think  we  may  dispense  with 
renewing  it.' 

So  saying,  the  Antiquary  turned  away  and  left  the  hut ; 
but  Lord  Glenallan  followed  him  into  the  open  air,  and, 
in  spite  of  a  hasty  '  Good  morning,  my  lord,'  requested  a 
few  minutes'  conversation,  and  the  favour  of  his  advice 
in  an  important  matter. 

'Your  lordship  will  find  many  more  capable  to  advise 
you,  my  lord,  and  by  whom  your  intercourse  will  be 
deemed  an  honour.  For  me,  I  am  a  man  retired  from 
business  and  the  world,  and  not  very  fond  of  raking  up 
the  past  events  of  my  useless  life;  and  forgive  me  if  I  say 
I  have  particular  pain  in  reverting  to  that  period  of  it 

38 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


when  I  acted  like  a  fool,  and  your  lordship  like  — '  He 
stopped  short. 

'Like  a  villain,  you  would  say,'  said  Lord  Glenallan; 
^for  such  I  must  have  appeared  to  you.' 

'My  lord,  my  lord,  I  have  no  desire  to  hear  your 
shrift,'  said  the  Antiquary. 

'But,  sir,  if  I  can  show  you  that  I  am  more  sinned 
against  than  sinning,  that  I  have  been  a  man  miserable 
beyond  the  power  of  description,  and  who  looks  forward 
at  this  moment  to  an  untimely  grave  as  to  a  haven  of 
rest,  you  will  not  refuse  the  confidence  which,  accepting 
your  appearance  at  this  critical  moment  as  a  hint  from 
Heaven,  I  venture  thus  to  press  on  you.' 

'Assuredly,  my  lord,  I  shall  shun  no  longer  the  con- 
tinuation of  this  extraordinary  interview.' 

'I  must  then  recall  to  you  our  occasional  meetings 
upwards  of  twenty  years  since  at  Knockwinnock  Castle, 
and  I  need  not  remind  you  of  a  lady  who  was  then  a 
member  of  that  family.' 

'The  unfortunate  Miss  Eveline  Neville,  my  lord,  I 
remember  it  well.' 

'Towards  whom  you  entertained  sentiments  — ' 

'Very  different  from  those  with  which  I  before  and 
since  have  regarded  her  sex;  her  gentleness,  her  docility, 
her  pleasure  in  the  studies  which  I  pointed  out  to  her, 
attached  by  affections  more  than  became  my  age  — 
though  that  was  not  then  much  advanced — or  the  solid- 
ity of  my  character.  But  I  need  not  remind  your  lord- 
ship of  the  various  modes  in  which  you  indulged  your 
gaiety  at  the  expense  of  an  awkward  and  retired  student, 
embarrassed  by  the  expression  of  feelings  so  new  to  him, 
and  I  have  no  doubt  that  the  young  lady  joined  you  in 

39 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


the  well-deserved  ridicule.  It  is  the  way  of  womankind. 
I  have  spoken  at  once  to  the  painful  circumstances  of 
my  addresses  and  their  rejection,  that  your  lordship  may 
be  satisfied  everything  is  full  in  my  memory,  and  may, 
so  far  as  I  am  concerned,  tell  your  story  without  scruple 
or  needless  delicacy.' 

*  I  will,'  said  Lord  Glenallan;  ^but  first  let  me  say,  you 
do  injustice  to  the  memory  of  the  gentlest  and  kindest, 
as  well  as  to  the  most  unhappy,  of  women  to  suppose  she 
could  make  a  jest  of  the  honest  affection  of  a  man  like 
you.  Frequently  did  she  blame  me,  Mr.  Oldbuck,  for 
indulging  my  levity  at  your  expense.  May  I  now  pre- 
sume you  will  excuse  the  gay  freedoms  which  then  of- 
fended you?  My  state  of  mind  has  never  since  laid  me 
under  the  necessity  of  apologising  for  the  inadverten- 
cies of  a  light  and  happy  temper.' 

^My  lord,  you  are  fully  pardoned,'  said  Mr.  Oldbuck. 
^  You  should  be  aware  that,  like  all  others,  I  was  ignor- 
ant at  the  time  that  I  placed  myself  in  competition  with 
your  lordship,  and  understood  that  Miss  Neville  was  in  a 
state  of  dependence  which  might  make  her  prefer  a  com- 
petent independence  and  the  hand  of  an  honest  man. 
But  I  am  wasting  time;  I  would  I  could  believe  that  the 
views  entertained  towards  her  by  others  were  as  fair  and 
honest  as  mine ! ' 

^Mr.  Oldbuck,  you  judge  harshly.' 

'Not  without  cause,  my  lord.  When  I  only,  of  all  the 
magistrates  of  this  county,  having  neither,  Uke  some  of 
them,  the  honour  to  be  connected  with  your  powerful 
family,  nor,  like  others,  the  meanness  to  fear  it  —  when 
I  made  some  inquiry  into  the  manner  of  Miss  Neville's 
death  —  I  shake  you,  my  lord,  but  I  must  be  plain  —  I 

40 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

do  own  I  had  every  reason  to  believe  that  she  had  met 
most  unfair  dealing,  and  had  either  been  imposed  upon 
by  a  counterfeit  marriage,  or*  that  very  strong  measures 
had  been  adopted  to  stifle  and  destroy  the  evidence  of  a 
real  union.  And  I  cannot  doubt  in  my  own  mind  that 
this  cruelty  on  your  lordship's  part,  whether  coming  of 
your  own  free  will  or  proceeding  from  the  influence  of 
the  late  Countess,  hurried  the  unfortunate  young  lady 
to  the  desperate  act  by  which  her  life  was  terminated/ 

'You  are  deceived,  Mr.  Oldbuck,  into  conclusions 
which  are  not  just,  however  naturally  they  flow  from  the 
circumstances.  Believe  me,  I  respected  you  even  when 
I  was  most  embarrassed  by  your  active  attempts  to  in- 
vestigate our  family  misfortunes.  You  showed  yourself 
more  worthy  of  Miss  Neville  than  I  by  the  spirit  with 
which  you  persisted  in  vindicating  her  reputation  even 
after  her  death.  But  the  firm  beUef,  that  your  well- 
meant  efforts  could  only  serve  to  bring  to  light  a  story 
too  horrible  to  be  detailed,  induced  me  to  join  my  un- 
happy mother  in  schemes  to  remove  or  destroy  all  evi- 
dence of  the  legal  union  which  had  taken  place  between 
Eveline  and  myself.  And  now  let  us  sit  down  on  this 
bank,  for  I  feel  unable  to  remain  longer  standing,  and 
have  the  goodness  to  listen  to  the  extraordinary  dis- 
covery which  I  have  this  day  made.' 

They  sate  down  accordingly;  and  Lord  Glenallan 
briefly  narrated  his  unhappy  family  history  —  his  con- 
cealed marriage,  the  horrible  invention  by  which  his 
mother  had  designed  to  render  impossible  that  union 
which  had  already  taken  place.  He  detailed  the  arts  by 
which  the  Countess,  having  all  the  documents  relative 
to  Miss  Neville's  birth  in  her  hands,  had  produced  those 

41 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

only  relating  to  a  period  during  which,  for  family  reasons, 
his  father  had  consented  to  own  that  young  lady  as  his 
natural  daughter,  and  showed  how  impossible  it  was 
that  he  could  either  suspect  or  detect  the  fraud  put  upon 
him  by  his  mother,  and  vouched  by  the  oaths  of  her  at- 
tendants, Teresa  and  Elspeth.  ^1  left  my  paternal  man- 
sion,' he  concluded,  'as  if  the  furies  of  hell  had  driven  me 
forth,  and  travelled  with  frantic  velocity  I  knew  not 
whither.  Nor  have  I  the  shghtest  recollection  of  what 
I  did  or  whither  I  went,  until  I  was  discovered  by  my 
brother.  I  will  not  trouble  you  with  an  account  of  my 
sick-bed  and  recovery,  or  how,  long  afterwards,  I  ven- 
tured to  inquire  after  the  sharer  of  my  misfortunes,  and 
heard  that  her  despair  had  found  a  dreadful  remedy  for 
all  the  ills  of  life.  The  first  thing  that  roused  me  to 
thought  was  hearing  of  your  inquiries  into  this  cruel  busi- 
ness; and  you  will  hardly  wonder  that,  believing  what 
I  did  beHeve,  I  should  join  in  those  expedients  to  stop 
your  investigation  which  my  brother  and  mother  had 
actively  commenced.  The  information  which  I  gave 
them  concerning  the  circumstances  and  witnesses  of  our 
private  marriage  enabled  them  to  baffle  your  zeal.  The 
clergyman,  therefore,  and  witnesses,  as  persons  who  had 
acted  in  the  matter  only  to  please  the  powerful  heir  of 
Glenallan,  were  accessible  to  his  promises  and  threats, 
and  were  so  provided  for  that  they  had  no  objections  to 
leave  this  country  for  another.  For  myself,  Mr.  Old- 
buck,'  pursued  this  unhappy  man,  'from  that  moment 
I  considered  myself  as  blotted  out  of  the  book  of  the 
living,  and  as  having  nothing  left  to  do  with  this  world. 
My  mother  tried  to  reconcile  me  to  Hfe  by  every  art, 
even  by  intimations  which  I  can  now  interpret  as  calcu- 

42 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

lated  to  produce  a  doubt  of  the  horrible  tale  she  herself 
had  fabricated.  But  I  construed  all  she  said  as  the  fic- 
tions of  maternal  affection.  I  will  forbear  all  reproach; 
she  is  no  more,  and,  as  her  wretched  associate  said,  she 
knew  not  how  the  dart  was  poisoned,  or  how  deep  it 
must  sink,  when  she  threw  it  from  her  hand.  But,  Mr. 
Oldbuck,  if  ever  during  these  twenty  years  there  crawled 
upon  earth  a  living  being  deserving  of  your  pity,  I  have 
been  that  man.  My  food  has  not  nourished  me,  my  sleep 
has  not  refreshed  me,  my  devotions  have  not  comforted 
me,  all  that  is  cheering  and  necessary  to  man  has  been 
to  me  converted  into  poison.  The  rare  and  limited 
intercourse  which  I  have  held  with  others  has  been  most 
odious  to  me.  I  felt  as  if  I  were  bringing  the  contamina- 
tion of  unnatural  and  inexpressible  guilt  among  the  gay 
and  the  innocent.  There  have  been  moments  when  I  had 
thoughts  of  another  description  —  to  plunge  into  the 
adventures  of  war,  or  to  brave  the  dangers  of  the  trav- 
eller in  foreign  and  barbarous  climates,  to  mingle  in  polit- 
ical intrigue,  or  to  retire  to  the  stern  seclusion  of  the 
anchorites  of  our  religion.  All  these  are  thoughts  which 
have  alternately  passed  through  my  mind,  but  each 
required  an  energy  which  was  mine  no  longer  after 
the  withering  stroke  I  had  received.  I  vegetated  on  as 
I  could  in  the  same  spot,  fancy,  feeling,  judgment,  and 
health  gradually  decaying,  Hke  a  tree  whose  bark  has 
been  destroyed,  when  first  the  blossoms  fade,  then  the 
boughs,  until  its  state  resembles  the  decayed  and  dying 
trunk  that  is  now  before  you.  Do  you  now  pity  and 
forgive  me?' 

'My  lord,'  answered  the  Antiquary,  much  affected, 
*my  pity,  my  forgiveness,  you  have  not  to  ask,  for  your 

43 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


dismal  story  is  of  itself  not  only  an  ample  excuse  for 
whatever  appeared  mysterious  in  your  conduct,  but  a 
narrative  that  might  move  your  worst  enemies  —  and 
I,  my  lord,  was  never  of  the  number  —  to  tears  and  to 
sympathy.  But  permit  me  to  ask  what  you  now  mean 
to  do,  and  why  you  have  honoured  me,  whose  opinion 
can  be  of  little  consequence,  with  your  confidence  on  this 
occasion?' 

^Mr.  Oldbuck,'  answered  the  Earl,  *as  I  could  never 
have  foreseen  the  nature  of  that  confession  which  I  have 
heard  this  day,  I  need  not  say  that  I  had  no  formed  plan 
of  consulting  you  or  any  one  upon  affairs  the  tendency 
of  which  I  could  not  even  have  suspected.  But  I  am 
without  friends,  unused  to  business,  and  by  long  retire- 
ment unacquainted  alike  with  the  laws  of  the  land  and 
the  habits  of  the  living  generation;  and  when,  most  un- 
expectedly, I  find  myself  immersed  in  the  matters  of 
which  I  know  least,  I  catch,  like  a  drowning  man,  at  the 
first  support  that  offers.  You  are  that  support,  Mr.  Old- 
buck.  I  have  always  heard  you  mentioned  as  a  man  of 
wisdom  and  intelligence,  I  have  known  you  myself  as  a 
man  of  a  resolute  and  independent  spirit,  and  there  is 
one  circumstance,'  said  he,  *  which  ought  to  combine  us 
in  some  degree  —  our  having  paid  tribute  to  the  same 
excellence  of  character  in  poor  Eveline.  You  offered 
yourself  to  me  in  my  need,  and  you  were  already  ac- 
quainted with  the  beginning  of  my  misfortunes.  To 
you,  therefore,  I  have  recourse  for  advice,  for  sympathy, 
for  support.' 

'You  shall  seek  none  of  them  in  vain,  my  lord,'  said 
Oldbuck,  'so  far  as  my  slender  ability  extends;  and  I  am 
honoured  by  the  preference,  whether  it  arises  from  choice 

44- 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

or  is  prompted  by  chance.  But  this  is  a  matter  to  be 
ripely  considered.  May  I  ask  what  are  your  principal 
views  at  present? ' 

*To  ascertain  the  fate  of  my  child/  said  the  Earl,  ^be 
the  consequences  what  they  may,  and  to  do  justice  to 
the  honour  of  EveUne,  which  I  have  only  permitted 
to  be  suspected  to  avoid  discovery  of  the  yet  more 
horrible  taint  to  which  I  was  made  to  believe  it  liable.' 

^And  the  memory  of  your  mother?' 

*Must  bear  its  own  burden,'  answered  the  Earl  with  a 
sigh;  ^better  that  she  were  justly  convicted  of  deceit, 
should  that  be  found  necessary,  than  that  others  should 
be  unjustly  accused  of  crimes  so  much  more  dreadful.' 

^Then,  my  lord,'  said  Oldbuck,  ^our  first  business 
must  be  to  put  the  information  of  the  old  woman,  Els- 
peth,  into  a  regular  and  authenticated  form.' 

^That,'  said  Lord  Glenallan,  'will  be  at  present,  I  fear, 
impossible.  She  is  exhausted  herself,  and  surrounded  by 
her  distressed  family.  To-morrow,  perhaps,  when  she  is 
alone  —  and  yet  I  doubt,  from  her  imperfect  sense  of 
right  and  wrong,  whether  she  would  speak  out  in  any 
one's  presence  but  my  own.  I  too  am  sorely  fatigued.' 

'Then,  my  lord,'  said  the  Antiquary,  whom  the  inter- 
est of  the  moment  elevated  above  points  of  expense  and 
convenience,  which  had  generally  more  than  enough  of 
weight  with  him,  *I  would  propose  to  your  lordship, 
instead  of  returning,  fatigued  as  you  are,  so  far  as  to 
Glenallan  House,  or  taking  the  more  uncomfortable  al- 
ternative of  going  to  a  bad  inn  at  Fairport,  to  alarm  all 
the  busybodies  of  the  town  —  I  would  propose,  I  say, 
that  you  should  be  my  guest  at  Monkbarns  for  this  night. 
By  to-morrow  these  poor  people  will  have  renewed  their 

45 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


out-of-doors  vocation,  for  sorrow  with  them  affords  no 
respite  from  labour;  and  we  will  visit  the  old  woman, 
Elspeth,  alone  and  take  down  her  examination.' 

After  a  formal  apology  for  the  encroachment,  Lord 
Glenallan  agreed  to  go  with  him,  and  underwent  with 
patience  in  their  return  home  the  whole  history  of  John 
of  the  Girnell,  a  legend  which  Mr.  Oldbuck  was  never 
known  to  spare  any  one  who  crossed  his  threshold. 

The  arrival  of  a  stranger  of  such  note,  with  two  saddle 
horses  and  a  servant  in  black,  which  servant  had  holsters 
on  his  saddle-bow  and  a  coronet  upon  the  holsters,  cre- 
ated a  general  commotion  in  the  house  of  Monkbarns. 
Jenny  Rintherout,  scarce  recovered  from  the  hysterics 
which  she  had  taken  on  hearing  of  poor  Steenie's  misfor- 
tune, chased  about  the  turkeys  and  poultry,  cackled  and 
screamed  louder  than  they  did,  and  ended  by  killing  one- 
half  too  many.  Miss  Griselda  made  many  wise  reflec- 
tions on  the  hot-headed  wilfulness  of  her  brother,  who 
had  occasioned  such  devastation  by  suddenly  bringing 
in  upon  them  a  papist  nobleman.  And  she  ventured  to 
transmit  to  Mr.  Blattergowl  some  hint  of  the  unusual 
slaughter  which  had  taken  place  in  the  basse-cour,  which 
brought  the  honest  clergyman  to  inquire  how  his  friend 
Monkbarns  had  got  home,  and  whether  he  was  not  the 
worse  of  being  at  the  funeral,  at  a  period  so  near  the  ring- 
ing of  the  bell  for  dinner  that  the  Antiquary  had  no 
choice  left  but  to  invite  him  to  stay  and  bless  the  meat. 
Miss  MTntyre  had  on  her  part  some  curiosity  to  see 
this  mighty  peer,  of  whom  all  had  heard,  as  an  Eastern 
caliph  or  sultan  is  heard  of  by  his  subjects,  and  felt  some 
degree  of  timidity  at  the  idea  of  encountering  a  person  of 
whose  unsocial  habits  and  stern  manners  so  many  stories 

46 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

were  told  that  her  fear  kept  at  least  pace  with  her  curi- 
osity. The  aged  housekeeper  was  no  less  flustered  and 
hurried  in  obeying  the  numerous  and  contradictory 
commands  of  her  mistress  concerning  preserves,  pastry, 
and  fruit,  the  mode  of  marshalling  and  dishing  the  din- 
ner, the  necessity  of  not  permitting  the  melted  butter 
to  run  to  oil,  and  the  danger  of  allowing  Juno  —  who, 
though  formally  banished  from  the  parlour,  failed  not  to 
maraud  about  the  out-settlements  of  the  family  —  to 
enter  the  kitchen. 

The  only  inmate  of  Monkbarns  who  remained  entirely 
indifferent  on  this  momentous  occasion  was  Hector 
MTntyre,  who  cared  no  more  for  an  earl  than  he  did  for 
a  commoner,  and  who  was  only  interested  in  the  unex- 
pected visit  as  it  might  afford  some  protection  against 
his  uncle's  displeasure,  if  he  harboured  any,  for  his  not 
attending  the  funeral,  and  still  more  against  his  satire 
upon  the  subject  of  his  gallant  but  unsuccessful  single 
combat  with  the  phoca  or  seal. 

To  these,  the  inmates  of  his  household,  Oldbuck  pre- 
sented the  Earl  of  Glenallan,  who  underwent  with  meek 
and  subdued  civility  the  prosing  speeches  of  the  hon- 
est divine  and  the  lengthened  apologies  of  Miss  Griselda 
Oldbuck,  which  her  brother  in  vain  endeavoured  to 
abridge.  Before  the  dinner  hour  Lord  Glenallan  re- 
quested permission  to  retire  a  while  to  his  chamber.  Mr. 
Oldbuck  accompanied  his  guest  to  the  Green  Room, 
which  had  been  hastily  prepared  for  his  reception.  He 
looked  around  with  an  air  of  painful  recollection. 

think,'  at  length  he  observed  —  'I  think,  Mr.  Old- 
buck,  ^  that  I  have  been  in  this  apartment  before.' 

^Yes,  my  lord,'  answered  Oldbuck,  'upon  occasion  of 

47 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


an  excursion  hither  from  Knockwinnock;  and  since  we 
are  upon  a  subject  so  melancholy,  you  may  perhaps  re- 
member whose  taste  supplied  these  lines  from  Chaucer 
which  now  form  the  motto  of  the  tapestry?' 

*I  guess,'  said  the  Earl,  'though  I  cannot  recollect. 
She  excelled  me,  indeed,  in  hterary  taste  and  informa- 
tion, as  in  everything  else,  and  it  is  one  of  the  mysterious 
dispensations  of  Providence,  Mr.  Oldbuck,  that  a  creat- 
ure so  excellent  in  mind  and  body  should  have  been  cut 
off  in  so  miserable  a  manner,  merely  from  her  having 
formed  a  fatal  attachment  to  such  a  wretch  as  I  am/ 

Mr.  Oldbuck  did  not  attempt  an  answer  to  this  burst 
of  the  grief  which  lay  ever  nearest  to  the  heart  of  his 
guest,  but,  pressing  Lord  Glenallan's  hand  with  one  of 
his  own  and  drawing  the  other  across  his  shaggy  eye- 
lashes, as  if  to  brush  away  a  mist  that  intercepted  his 
sight,  he  left  the  Earl  at  liberty  to  arrange  himself  pre- 
vious to  dinner. 


CHAPTER  XXXV 


Life,  with  you, 

Glows  in  the  brain  and  dances  in  the  arteries; 
'T  is  like  the  wine  some  joyous  guest  hath  quaffed, 
That  glads  the  heart  and  elevates  the  fancy; 
Mine  is  the  poor  residuum  of  the  cup. 
Vapid,  and  dull,  and  tasteless,  only  soiling. 
With  its  base  dregs,  the  vessel  that  contains  it. 

Old  Play. 

'Now  only  think  what  a  man  my  brother  is,  Mr.  Blatter- 
gov/1,  for  a  wise  man  and  a  learned  man,  to  bring  this 
Yerl  into  our  house  without  speaking  a  single  word  to  a 
body!  And  there 's  the  distress  of  thae  Mucklebackits — 
we  canna  get  a  fin  o'  fish;  and  we  hae  nae  time  to  send 
ower  to  Fairport  for  beef,  and  the  mutton 's  but  new 
killed;  and  that  silly  fliskmahoy,  Jenny  Rintherout,  has 
taen  the  exies,  and  done  naething  but  laugh  and  greet, 
the  skirl  at  the  tail  o'  the  guff  a',  for  twadays  successfully; 
and  now  we  maun  ask  that  strange  man,  that 's  as  grand 
and  as  grave  as  the  Yerl  himsell,  to  stand  at  the  side- 
board! And  I  canna  gang  into  the  kitchen  to  direct  ony 
thing,  for  he 's  hovering  there  making  some  pousowdie 
for  my  lord,  for  he  doesna  eat  hke  ither  folk  neither.  And 
how  to  sort  the  strange  servant  man  at  dinner-time  —  I 
am  sure,  Mr.  Blattergowl,  a'thegither  it  passes  my  judg- 
ment.' 

'Truly,  Miss  Griselda,'  replied  the  divine,  'Monk- 
barns  was  inconsiderate.  He  should  have  taen  a  day  to 
see  the  invitation,  as  they  do  wi'  the  titular's  condescend- 
ence in  the  process  of  valuation  and  sale.  But  the  great 
man  could  not  have  come  on  a  sudden  to  ony  house  in 
6  49 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


this  parish  where  he  could  have  been  better  served  with 
"vivers^'  —  that  I  must  say,  and  also  that  the  steam 
from  the  kitchen  is  very  gratifying  to  my  nostrils,  and  if 
ye  have  ony  household  affairs  to  attend  to,  Mrs.  Gris- 
elda,  never  make  a  stranger  of  me;  I  can  amuse  myself 
very  weel  with  the  larger  copy  of  Erskine's '  *  Institutes.'' ' 

And,  taking  down  from  the  window  seat  that  amusing 
folio  (the  Scottish  Coke  upon  Littleton),  he  opened  it, 
as  if  instinctively,  at  the  tenth  title  of  Book  Second,  'Of 
Teinds  or  Tythes,'  and  was  presently  deeply  wrapped 
up  in  an  abstruse  discussion  concerning  the  temporal- 
ity of  benefices. 

The  entertainment,  about  which  Miss  Oldbuck  ex- 
pressed so  much  anxiety,  was  at  length  placed  upon  the 
table;  and  the  Earl  of  Glenallan,  for  the  first  time  since 
the  date  of  his  calamity,  sat  at  a  stranger's  board  sur- 
rounded by  strangers.  He  seemed  to  himself  like  a  man 
in  a  dream,  or  one  whose  brain  was  not  fully  recovered 
from  the  effects  of  an  intoxicating  potion.  Relieved,  as 
he  had  that  morning  been,  from  the  image  of  guilt  which 
had  so  long  haunted  his  imagination,  he  felt  his  sorrows 
as  a  lighter  and  more  tolerable  load,  but  was  still  unable 
to  take  any  share  in  the  conversation  that  passed  around 
him.  It  was,  indeed,  of  a  cast  very  different  from  that 
which  he  had  been  accustomed  to.  The  bluntness  of  Old- 
buck,  the  tiresome  apologetic  harangues  of  his  sister,  the 
pedantry  of  the  divine,  and  the  vivacity  of  the  young 
soldier,  which  savoured  much  more  of  the  camp  than  of 
the  court,  were  all  new  to  a  nobleman  who  had  lived  in  a 
retired  and  melancholy  state  for  so  many  years  that  the 
manners  of  the  world  seemed  to  him  equally  strange  and 
unpleasing.   Miss  MTntyre  alone,  from  the  natural 

SO 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

politeness  and  unpretending  simplicity  of  her  manners, 
appeared  to  belong  to  that  class  of  society  to  which  he 
had  been  accustomed  in  his  earlier  and  better  days. 

Nor  did  Lord  Glenallan's  deportment  less  surprise  the 
company.  Though  a  plain  but  excellent  family  dinner 
was  provided  (for,  as  Mr.  Blattergowl  had  justly  said,  it 
was  impossible  to  surprise  Miss  Griselda  when  her  larder 
was  empty),  and  though  the  Antiquary  boasted  his  best 
port,  and  assimilated  it  to  the  Falernian  of  Horace,  Lord 
Glenallan  was  proof  to  the  allurements  of  both.  His 
servant  placed  before  him  a  small  mess  of  vegetables  — 
that  very  dish  the  cooking  of  which  had  alarmed  Miss 
Griselda  —  arranged  with  the  most  minute  and  scrupu- 
lous neatness.  He  eat  sparingly  of  these  provisions;  and 
a  glass  of  pure  water,  sparkUng  from  the  fountain-head, 
completed  his  repast.  ^Such,'  his  servant  said,  'had 
been  his  lordship's  diet  for  very  many  years,  unless  upon 
the  high  festivals  of  the  Church,  or  when  company  of 
the  first  rank  were  entertained  at  Glenallan  House,  when 
he  relaxed  a  little  in  the  austerity  of  his  diet,  and  per- 
mitted himself  a  glass  or  two  of  wine.'  But  at  Monk- 
barns  no  anchoret  could  have  made  a  more  simple  and 
scanty  meal. 

The  Antiquary  was  a  gentleman,  as  we  have  seen,  in 
feehng,  but  blunt  and  careless  in  expression,  from  the 
habit  of  living  with  those  before  whom  he  had  nothing 
to  suppress.  He  attacked  his  noble  guest  without  scru- 
ple on  the  severity  of  his  regimen. 

'A  few  half-cold  greens  and  potatoes,  a  glass  of  ice- 
cold  water  to  wash  them  down  —  antiquity  gives  no 
warrant  for  it,  my  lord.  This  house  used  to  be  accounted 
a  hospitium,  a  place  of  retreat  for  Christians;  but  your 

SI 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


lordship's  diet  is  that  of  a  heathen  Pythagorean  or  In- 
dian Bramin;  nay,  more  severe  than  either,  if  you  refuse 
these  fine  apples/ 

*I  am  a  CathoKc,  you  are  aware,'  said  Lord  Glenallan, 
wishing  to  escape  from  the  discussion,  ^and  you  know 
that  our  church  — ' 

^Lays  down  many  rules  of  mortification,'  proceeded 
the  dauntless  Antiquary;  'but  I  never  heard  that  they 
were  quite  so  rigorously  practised.  Bear  witness  my  pre- 
decessor, John  of  the  Girnell,  or  the  jolly  abbot  who 
gave  his  name  to  this  apple,  my  lord.' 

And  as  he  pared  the  fruit,  in  spite  of  his  sister's  '0  fie, 
Monkbarns,'  and  the  prolonged  cough  of  the  minister, 
accompanied  by  a  shake  of  his  huge  wig,  the  Antiquary 
proceeded  to  detail  the  intrigue  which  had  given  rise  to 
the  fame  of  the  abbot's  apple  with  more  slyness  and  cir- 
cumstantiality than  was  at  all  necessary.  His  jest,  as 
may  readily  be  conceived,  missed  fire,  for  this  anecdote 
of  conventual  gallantry  failed  to  produce  the  slightest 
smile  on  the  visage  of  the  Earl.  Oldbuck  then  took  up 
the  subject  of  Ossian,  Macpherson,  and  Mac-Cribb;  but 
Lord  Glenallan  had  never  so  much  as  heard  of  any  of 
the  three,  so  little  conversant  had  he  been  with  modern 
literature.  The  conversation  was  now  in  some  danger  of 
flagging,  or  of  falling  into  the  hands  of  Mr.  Blattergowl, 
who  had  just  pronounced  the  formidable  word, '  teind- 
free,'  when  the  subject  of  the  French  Revolution  was 
started;  a  poHtical  event  on  which  Lord  Glenallan 
looked  with  all  the  prejudiced  horror  of  a  bigoted  Cath- 
olic and  zealous  aristocrat.  Oldbuck  was  far  from  car- 
rying his  detestation  of  its  principles  to  such  a  length. 

^  There  were  many  men  in  the  first  Constituent  Assem- 

52 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

biy/  he  said,  'who  held  sound  Whiggish  doctrines,  and 
were  for  settHng  the  constitution  with  a  proper  provis- 
ion for  the  liberties  of  the  people.  And  if  a  set  of  furious 
madmen  were  now  in  possession  of  the  government,  it 
was,'  he  continued,  'what  often  happened  in  great  revo- 
lutions, where  extreme  measures  are  adopted  in  the  fury 
of  the  moment,  and  the  state  resembles  an  agitated  pen- 
dulum which  swings  from  side  to  side  for  some  time  ere 
it  can  acquire  its  due  and  perpendicular  station.  Or  it 
might  be  likened  to  a  storm  or  hurricane,  which,  passing 
over  a  region,  does  great  damage  in  its  passage,  yet 
sweeps  away  stagnant  and  unwholesome  vapours,  and 
repays,  in  future  health  and  fertility,  its  immediate 
desolation  and  ravage.' 

The  Earl  shook  his  head;  but,  having  neither  spirit 
nor  inclination  for  debate,  he  suffered  the  argument  to 
pass  uncontested. 

This  discussion  served  to  introduce  the  young  soldier's 
experiences;  and  he  spoke  of  the  actions  in  which  he  had 
been  engaged  with  modesty,  and  at  the  same  time  with 
an  air  of  spirit  and  zeal  which  delighted  the  Earl,  who 
had  been  bred  up,  like  others  of  his  house,  in  the  opinion 
that  the  trade  of  arms  was  the  first  duty  of  man,  and  be- 
lieved that  to  employ  them  against  the  French  was  a 
sort  of  holy  warfare. 

'What  would  I  give,'  said  he  apart  to  Oldbuck,  as 
they  rose  to  join  the  ladies  in  the  drawing-room  — 
'what  would  I  give  to  have  a  son  of  such  spirit  as  that 
young  gentleman!  He  wants  something  of  address  and 
manner,  something  of  polish,  which  mixing  in  good  soci- 
ety would  soon  give  him ;  but  with  what  zeal  and  anima- 
tion he  expresses  himself,  how  fond  of  his  profession, 

S3 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


how  loud  in  the  praise  of  others,  how  modest  when 
speaking  of  himself!' 

^Hector  is  much  obliged  to  you,  my  lord,'  replied  his 
uncle,  gratified,  yet  not  so  much  so  as  to  suppress  his 
consciousness  of  his  own  mental  superiority  over  the 
young  soldier;  'I  believe  in  my  heart  nobody  ever  spoke 
half  so  much  good  of  him  before,  except  perhaps  the  ser- 
geant of  his  company,  when  he  was  wheedling  a  High- 
land recruit  to  enlist  with  him.  He  is  a  good  lad  not- 
withstanding, although  he  be  not  quite  the  hero  your 
lordship  supposes  him,  and  although  my  commenda- 
tions rather  attest  the  kindness  than  the  vivacity  of  his 
character.  In  fact,  his  high  spirit  is  a  sort  of  constitu- 
tional vehemence  which  attends  him  in  everything  he 
sets  about,  and  is  often  very  inconvenient  to  his  friends. 
I  saw  him  to-day  engage  in  an  animated  contest  with  a 
phoca  or  seal  —  "  sealgh,"  our  people  more  properly  call 
them,  retaining  the  Gothic  guttural  gh  —  with  as  much 
vehemence  as  if  he  had  fought  against  Dumourier. 
Marry,  my  lord,  the  phoca  had  the  better,  as  the  said 
Dumourier  had  of  some  other  folks.  And  he'll  talk  with 
equal  if  not  superior  rapture  of  the  good  behaviour  of  a 
pointer  bitch  as  of  the  plan  of  a  campaign.' 

^He  shall  have  full  permission  to  sport  over  my 
grounds,'  said  the  Earl,  'if  he  is  so  fond  of  that  exercise.' 

'  You  will  bind  him  to  you,  my  lord,'  said  Monkbarns, 
'body  and  soul;  give  him  leave  to  crack  off  his  birding- 
piece  at  a  poor  covey  of  partridges  or  moor-fowl,  and 
he 's  yours  for  ever.  I  will  enchant  him  by  the  intelH- 
gence.  But  O,  my  lord,  that  you  could  have  seen  my 
phoenix  Lovel !  the  very  prince  and  chieftain  of  the  youth 
of  this  age,  and  not  destitute  of  spirit  neither:  I  promise 

54 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


you  he  gave  my  termagant  kinsman  a  quid  pro  quo  —  a 
Rowland  for  his  Oliver,  as  the  vulgar  say,  alluding  to  the 
two  celebrated  Paladins  of  Charlemagne/ 

After  coffee,  Lord  Glenallan  requested  a  private  in- 
terview with  the  Antiquary,  and  was  ushered  to  his 
library. 

*  I  must  withdraw  you  from  your  own  amiable  family,' 
he  said,  ^  to  involve  you  in  the  perplexities  of  an  unhappy 
man.  You  are  acquainted  with  the  world,  from  which 
I  have  long  been  banished;  for  Glenallan  House  has 
been  to  me  rather  a  prison  than  a  dwelling,  although  a 
prison  which  I  had  neither  fortitude  nor  spirit  to  break 
from.' 

'Let  me  first  ask  your  lordship,'  said  the  Antiquary, 
'what  are  your  own  wishes  and  designs  in  this  mat- 
ter?' 

'I  wish  most  especially,'  answered  Lord  Glenallan, 
'to  declare  my  luckless  marriage  and  to  vindicate  the 
reputation  of  the  unhappy  Eveline;  that  is,  if  you  see 
a  possibility  of  doing  so  without  making  public  the  con- 
duct of  my  mother.' 

'Suum  cuique  tribuito,^  said  the  Antiquary,  'do  right 
to  every  one.  The  memory  of  that  unhappy  young  lady 
has  too  long  suffered,  and  I  think  it  might  be  cleared 
without  further  impeaching  that  of  your  mother  than  by 
letting  it  be  understood  in  general  that  she  greatly  dis- 
approved and  bitterly  opposed  the  match.  All  —  for- 
give me,  my  lord  —  all  who  ever  heard  of  the  late  Count- 
ess of  Glenallan  will  learn  that  without  much  surprise.' 

'But  you  forget  one  horrible  circumstance,  Mr.  Old- 
buck,'  said  the  Earl,  in  an  agitated  voice. 

'I  am  not  aware  of  it,'  replied  the  Antiquary. 

55 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


^The  fate  of  the  infant  —  its  disappearance  with  the 
confidential  attendant  of  my  mother,  and  the  dreadful 
surmises  which  may  be  drawn  from  my  conversation 
with  Elspeth/ 

'If  you  would  have  my  free  opinion,  my  lord,'  an- 
swered Mr.  Oldbuck,  'and  will  not  catch  too  rapidly  at 
it  as  matter  of  hope,  I  would  say  that  it  is  very  possible 
the  child  yet  lives.  For  thus  much  I  ascertained  by  my 
former  inquiries  concerning  the  event  of  that  deplorable 
evening,  that  a  child  and  woman  were  carried  that  night 
from  the  cottage  at  the  Craigburnfoot  in  a  carriage  and 
four  by  your  brother,  Edward  Geraldin  Neville,  whose 
journey  towards  England  with  these  companions  I  traced 
for  several  stages.  I  believed  then  it  was  a  part  of  the 
family  compact  to  carry  a  child  whom  you  meant  to 
stigmatise  with  illegitimacy  out  of  that  country  where 
chance  might  have  raised  protectors  and  proofs  of  its 
rights.  But  I  now  think  that  your  brother,  having  rea- 
son, like  yourself,  to  believe  the  child  stained  with  shame 
yet  more  indelible,  had  nevertheless  withdrawn  it,  partly 
from  regard  to  the  honour  of  his  house,  partly  from  the 
risk  to  which  it  might  have  been  exposed  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  the  Lady  Glenallan.' 

As  he  spoke,  the  Earl  of  Glenallan  grew  extremely 
pale,  and  had  nearly  fallen  from  his  chair.  The  alarmed 
Antiquary  ran  hither  and  thither  looking  for  remedies; 
but  his  museum,  though  sufficiently  well  filled  with  a 
vast  variety  of  useless  matters,  contained  nothing  that 
could  be  serviceable  on  the  present  or  any  other  occasion. 
As  he  posted  out  of  the  room  to  borrow  his  sister's  salts, 
he  could  not  help  giving  a  constitutional  growl  of  cha- 
grin and  wonder  at  the  various  incidents  which  had  con- 

S6 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


verted  his  mansion,  first  into  an  hospital  for  a  wounded 
duellist  and  now  into  the  sick-chamber  of  a  dying  noble- 
man. ^  And  yet/  said  he, '  I  have  always  kept  aloof  from 
the  soldiery  and  the  peerage.  My  ccenobitium  has  only 
next  to  be  made  a  lying-in  hospital,  and  then  I  trow  the 
transformation  will  be  complete.' 

When  he  returned  with  the  remedy  Lord  Glenallan 
was  much  better.  The  new  and  unexpected  Kght  which 
Mr.  Oldbuck  had  thrown  upon  the  melancholy  history 
of  his  family  had  almost  overpowered  him.  *  You  think, 
then,  Mr.  Oldbuck  —  for  you  are  capable  of  thinking, 
which  I  am  not  —  you  think,  then,  that  it  is  pos- 
sible —  that  is,  not  impossible  —  my  child  may  yet 
live?' 

*I  think,'  said  the  Antiquary,  Mt  is  impossible  that  it 
could  come  to  any  violent  harm  through  your  brother's 
means.  He  was  known  to  be  a  gay  and  dissipated  man, 
but  not  cruel  nor  dishonourable;  nor  is  it  possible  that, 
if  he  had  intended  any  foul  play,  he  would  have  placed 
himself  so  forward  in  the  charge  of  the  infant  as  I  will 
prove  to  your  lordship  he  did.' 

So  saying,  Mr.  Oldbuck  opened  a  drawer  of  the  cab- 
inet of  his  ancestor,  Aldobrand,  and  produced  a  bundle 
of  papers  tied  with  a  black  ribband  and  labelled,  'Ex- 
aminations, etc.,  taken  by  Jonathan  Oldbuck,  J.P.,  upon 
the  i8th  of  February  17 — .'  A  little  under  was  written 
in  a  small  hand,  Eheu  Evelina!  The  tears  dropped  fast 
from  the  Earl's  eyes  as  he  endeavoured  in  vain  to  unfas- 
ten the  knot  which  secured  these  documents. 

'Your  lordship,'  said  Mr.  Oldbuck,  'had  better  not 
read  these  at  present.  Agitated  as  you  are,  and  having 
much  business  before  you,  you  must  not  exhaust  your 

57 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


strength.  Your  brother's  succession  is  now,  I  presume, 
your  own,  and  it  will  be  easy  for  you  to  make  inquiry 
among  his  servants  and  retainers,  so  as  to  hear  where 
the  child  is,  if,  fortunately,  it  shall  be  still  alive.' 

^  I  dare  hardly  hope  it,'  said  the  Earl,  with  a  deep 
sigh;  ^why  should  my  brother  have  been  silent  to  me?' 

^Nay,  my  lord!  why  should  he  have  communicated 
to  your  lordship  the  existence  of  a  being  whom  you  must 
have  supposed  the  offspring  of  — ' 

'Most  true;  there  is  an  obvious  and  a  kind  reason  for 
his  being  silent.  If  anything,  indeed,  could  have  added 
to  the  horror  of  the  ghastly  dream  that  has  poisoned  my 
whole  existence,  it  must  have  been  the  knowledge  that 
such  a  child  of  misery  existed.' 

'Then,'  continued  the  Antiquary,  'although  it  would 
be  rash  to  conclude,  at  the  distance  of  more  than  twenty 
years,  that  your  son  must  needs  be  still  alive  because  he 
was  not  destroyed  in  infancy,  I  own  I  think  you  should 
instantly  set  on  foot  inquiries.' 

'It  shall  be  done,'  replied  Lord  Glenallan,  catching 
eagerly  at  the  hope  held  out  to  him,  the  first  he  had 
nourished  for  many  years;  'I  will  write  to  a  faithful 
steward  of  my  father,  who  acted  in  the  same  capacity 
under  my  brother  Neville;  but,  Mr.  Oldbuck,  I  am  not 
my  brother's  heir.' 

'Indeed!  I  am  sorry  for  that,  my  lord:  it  is  a  noble 
estate,  and  the  ruins  of  the  old  castle  of  Neville's  Burgh 
alone,  which  are  the  most  superb  relics  of  Anglo-Norman 
architecture  in  that  part  of  the  country,  are  a  possession 
much  to  be  coveted.  I  thought  your  father  had  no  other 
son  or  near  relative.' 

'He  had  not,  Mr.  Oldbuck,'  replied  Lord  Glenallan; 

S8 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

*but  my  brother  adopted  views  in  politics  and  a  form  of 
religion  alien  from  those  which  had  been  always  held  by 
our  house.  Our  tempers  had  long  differed,  nor  did  my 
unhappy  mother  always  think  him  sufficiently  observ- 
ant to  her.  In  short,  there  was  a  family  quarrel,  and 
my  brother,  whose  property  was  at  his  own  free  disposal, 
availed  himself  of  the  power  vested  in  him  to  choose  a 
stranger  for  his  heir.  It  is  a  matter  which  never  struck 
me  as  being  of  the  least  consequence;  for,  if  worldly  pos- 
sessions could  alleviate  misery,  I  have  enough  and  to 
spare.  But  now  I  shall  regret  it  if  it  throws  any  difficulty 
in  the  way  of  our  inquiries;  and  I  bethink  me  that  it 
may,  for,  in  case  of  my  having  a  lawful  son  of  my  body 
and  my  brother  dying  without  issue,  my  father's  pos- 
sessions stood  entailed  upon  my  son.*  It  is  not,  therefore, 
likely  that  this  heir,  be  he  who  he  may,  will  afford  us 
assistance  in  making  a  discovery  which  may  turn  out  so 
much  to  his  own  prejudice.' 

'And  in  all  probability  the  steward  your  lordship  men- 
tions is  also  in  his  service,'  said  the  Antiquary. 

'It  is  most  likely;  and  the  man  being  a  Protestant, 
how  far  it  is  safe  to  entrust  him  — ' 

*I  should  hope,  my  lord,'  said  Oldbuck,  gravely,  'that 
a  Protestant  may  be  as  trustworthy  as  a  Catholic.  I  am 
doubly  interested  in  the  Protestant  faith,  my  lord.  My 
ancestor,  Aldobrand  Oldenbuck,  printed  the  celebrated 
Confession  of  Augsburg,  as  I  can  show  by  the  original 
edition  now  in  this  house.' 

'I  have  not  the  least  doubt  of  what  you  say,  Mr.  Old- 
buck,'  replied  the  Earl,  'nor  do  I  speak  out  of  bigotry  or 
intolerance;  but  probably  the  Protestant  steward  will 
favour  the  Protestant  heir  rather  than  the  Catholic  — 


59 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


if,  indeed,  my  son  has  been  bred  in  his  father's  faith,  or 
alas!  if  indeed  he  yet  lives.' 

''We  must  look  close  into  this,'  said  Oldbuck,  'before 
committing  ourselves.  I  have  a  literary  friend  at  York, 
with  whom  I  have  long  corresponded  on  the  subject  of 
the  Saxon  horn  that  is  preserved  in  the  minster  there; 
we  interchanged  letters  for  six  years,  and  have  only  as 
yet  been  able  to  settle  the  first  line  of  the  inscription. 
I  will  write  forthwith  to  this  gentleman.  Dr.  Dryas- 
dust, and  be  particular  in  my  inquiries  concerning  the 
character,  etc.,  of  your  brother's  heir,  of  the  gentle- 
man employed  in  his  affairs,  and  what  else  may  be  likely 
to  further  your  lordship's  inquiries.  In  the  meantime 
your  lordship  will  collect  the  evidence  of  the  marriage, 
which  I  hope  can  still  be  recovered? ' 

'  Unquestionably,'  replied  the  Earl ; '  the  witnesses  who 
were  formetly  withdrawn  from  your  research  are  still 
living.  My  tutor,  who  solemnised  the  marriage,  was  pro- 
vided for  by  a  Uving  in  France,  and  has  lately  returned 
to  this  country  as  an  emigrant,  a  victim  of  his  zeal  for 
loyalty,  legitimacy,  and  religion.' 

'That 's  one  lucky  consequence  of  the  French  Revolu- 
tion, my  lord,  you  must  allow  that  at  least,'  said  Old- 
buck;  'but  no  offence,  I  will  act  as  warmly  in  your 
affairs  as  if  I  were  of  your  own  faith  in  politics  and 
religion.  And  take  my  advice:  if  you  want  an  affair  of 
consequence  properly  managed,  put  it  into  the  hands  of 
an  antiquary;  for,  as  they  are  eternally  exercising  their 
genius  and  research  upon  trifles,  it  is  impossible  they  can 
be  baffled  in  affairs  of  importance.  Use  makes  perfect, 
and  the  corps  that  is  most  frequently  drilled  upon  the 
parade  will  be  most  prompt  in  its  exercise  upon  the  day 

60 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

of  battle.  And,  talking  upon  that  subject,  I  would  will- 
ingly read  to  your  lordship  in  order  to  pass  away  the 
time  betwixt  and  supper  — ' 

beg  I  may  not  interfere  with  family  arrangements,' 
said  Lord  Glenallan,  ^but  I  never  taste  anything  after 
sunset/ 

'Nor  I  either,  my  lord,'  answered  his  host,  'notwith- 
standing it  is  said  to  have  been  the  custom  of  the  an- 
cients; but  then  I  dine  differently  from  your  lordship, 
and  therefore  am  better  enabled  to  dispense  with  those 
elaborate  entertainments  which  my  womankind  (that 
is,  my  sister  and  niece,  my  lord)  are  apt  to  place  on  the 
table,  for  the  display  rather  of  their  own  housewifery 
than  the  accommodation  of  our  wants.  However,  a 
broiled  bone,  or  a  smoked  haddock,  or  an  oyster,  or  a 
slice  of  bacon  of  our  own  curing,  with  a  toast  and  a 
tankard,  or  something  or  other  of  that  sort,  to  close  the 
orifice  of  the  stomach  before  going  to  bed,  does  not  fall 
under  my  restriction,  nor,  I  hope,  under  your  lordship's.' 

'My  "no  supper"  is  Hteral,  Mr.  Oldbuck;  but  I  will 
attend  you  at  your  meal  with  pleasure.' 

'Well,  my  lord,'  replied  the  Antiquary,  'I  will  en- 
deavour to  entertain  your  ears  at  least,  since  I  cannot 
banquet  your  palate.  What  I  am  about  to  read  to  your 
lordship  relates  to  the  upland  glens.' 

Lord  Glenallan,  though  he  would  rather  have  recurred 
to  the  subject  of  his  own  uncertainties,  was  compelled  to 
make  a  sign  of  rueful  civility  and  acquiescence. 

The  Antiquary,  therefore,  took  out  his  portfolio  of 
loose  sheets,  and,  after  premising  that  the  topograph- 
ical details  here  laid  down  were  designed  to  illustrate 
a  slight  essay  upon  castrametation,  which  had  been 

6i 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


read  with  indulgence  at  several  societies  of  antiquaries, 
he  commenced  as  follows:  ^The  subject,  my  lord,  is 
the  hill-fort  of  Quickens  Bog,  with  the  site  of  which 
your  lordship  is  doubtless  famihar.  It  is  upon  your 
storefarm  of  Mantanner,  in  the  barony  of  Clochnaben.' 

'I  think  I  have  heard  the  names  of  these  places,'  said 
the  Earl,  in  answer  to  the  Antiquary's  appeal. 

^ Heard  the  name!  and  the  farm  brings  him  six  hun- 
dred a  year.  O  Lord!' 

Such  was  the  scarce  subdued  ejaculation  of  the  Anti- 
quary. But  his  hospitaUty  got  the  better  of  his  surprise, 
and  he  proceeded  to  read  his  essay  with  an  audible  voice, 
in  great  glee  at  having  secured  a  patient,  and,  as  he 
fondly  hoped,  an  interested  hearer. 

^Quickens  Bog  may  at  first  seem  to  derive  its  name 
from  the  plant  quicken,  by  which,  ScoUice,  we  under- 
stand couch-grass,  dog-grass,  or  the  Triticum  repens  of 
Linnaeus;  and  the  common  English  monosyllable  ^^bog,'^ 
by  which  we  mean,  in  popular  language,  a  marsh  or 
morass,  in  Latin  palus.  But  it  may  confound  the  rash 
adopters  of  the  more  obvious  etymological  derivations  to 
learn  that  the  couch-grass  or  dog-grass,  or,  to  speak  sci- 
entifically, the  Triticum  repens  of  Linnaeus,  does  not 
grow  within  a  quarter  of  a  mile  of  this  castrum  or  hill- 
fort,  whose  ramparts  are  uniformly  clothed  with  short 
verdant  turf,  and  that  we  must  seek  a  bog  or  palus  at  a 
still  greater  distance,  the  nearest  being  that  of  Gird-the- 
mear,  a  full  half-mile  distant.  The  last  syllable,  "bog," 
is  obviously,  therefore,  a  mere  corruption  of  the  Saxon 
burgh,  which  we  find  in  the  various  transmutations  of 
burgh,  burrow,  brough,  bruf,  buf,  and  bof,  which  last  ap- 
proaches very  near  the  sound  in  question;  since,  suppos- 

62 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


ing  the  word  to  have  been  originally  lorghy  which  is  the 
genuine  Saxon  spelling,  a  slight  change,  such  as  modern 
organs  too  often  make  upon  ancient  sounds,  will  produce 
first  hoghy  and  then,  elisa  h,  or  compromising  and  sinking 
the  guttural,  agreeable  to  the  common  vernacular  prac- 
tice, you  have  either  boff  or  bog,  as  it  happens.  The  word 
"quickens"  requires  in  like  manner  to  be  altered  —  de- 
composed, as  it  were  — •  and  reduced  to  its  original  and 
genuine  sound,  ere  we  can  discern  its  real  meaning. 
By  the  ordinary  exchange  of  the  qu  into  wh,  familiar  to 
the  rudest  tyro  who  has  opened  a  book  of  old  Scottish 
poetry,  we  gain  either  Whilkens  or  Whichensborgh  — 
put,  we  may  suppose,  by  way  of  question,  as  if  those  who 
imposed  the  name,  struck  with  the  extreme  antiquity  of 
the  place,  had  expressed  in  it  an  interrogation,  "To 
whom  did  this  fortress  belong?  "  Or,  it  might  be  Whack- 
ensburgh,  from  the  Saxon  whacken,  to  strike  with  the 
hand,  as  doubtless  the  skirmishes  near  a  place  of  such 
apparent  consequence  must  have  legitimated  such  a 
derivation,'  etc.  etc.  etc. 

I  will  be  more  merciful  to  my  readers  than  Oldbuck 
was  to  his  guest;  for,  considering  his  opportunities  of 
gaining  patient  attention  from  a  person  of  such  conse- 
quence as  Lord  Glenallan  were  not  many,  he  used,  or 
rather  abused,  the  present  to  the  uttermost. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI 


Crabbed  age  and  youth 

Cannot  live  together : 
Youth  is  full  of  pleasance, 

Age  is  full  of  care; 
Youth  like  summer  morn, 

Age  like  winter  weather, 
Youth  like  summer  brave, 

Age  like  winter  bare. 

Shakspeare. 

In  the  morning  of  the  following  day  the  Antiquary,  who 
was  something  of  a  sluggard,  was  summoned  from  his 
bed  a  full  hour  earlier  than  his  custom,  by  Caxon. 

What's  the  matter  now?'  he  exclaimed,  yawning 
and  stretching  forth  his  hand  to  the  huge  gold  repeater, 
which,  bedded  upon  his  India  silk  handkerchief,  was  laid 
safe  by  his  pillow  —  ^  what 's  the  matter  now,  Caxon?  it 
can't  be  eight  o'clock  yet.' 

^Na,  sir,  but  my  lord's  man  sought  me  out,  for  he  fan- 
cies me  your  honour's  valley-de-sham;  and  sae  I  am, 
there 's  nae  doubt  o't,  baith  your  honour's  and  the  min- 
ister's, at  least  ye  hae  nae  other  that  I  ken  o' ;  and  I  gie 
a  help  to  Sir  Arthur  too,  but  that 's  mair  in  the  way 
o'  my  profession.' 

^Well,  well,  never  mind  that,'  said  the  Antiquary, 
*  happy  is  he  that  is  his  own  valley-de-sham,  as  you  call 
it;  but  why  disturb  my  morning's  rest?' 

*0u,  sir,  the  great  man's  been  up  since  peep  o'  day, 
and  he's  steered  the  town  to  get  awa  an  express  to  fetch 
his  carriage,  and  it  will  be  here  briefly,  and  he  wad  like 
to  see  your  honour  afore  he  gaes  awa.' 

64 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


'Gadso!'  ejaculated  Oldbuck,  Hhese  great  men  use 
one's  house  and  time  as  if  they  were  their  own  property. 
Well,  it 's  once  and  away.  Has  Jenny  come  to  her  senses 
yet,  Caxon?' 

'Troth,  sir,  but  just  middling,'  replied  the  barber; 
^  she 's  been  in  a  swither  about  the  jocolate  this  morning, 
and  was  like  to  hae  toomed  it  a'  out  into  the  slap-basin, 
and  drank  it  hersell  in  her  ecstasies;  but  she 's  won  ower 
wi 't,  wi'  the  help  o'  Miss  MTntyre.' 

'Then  all  my  womankind  are  on  foot  and  scrambling, 
and  I  must  enjoy  my  quiet  bed  no  longer,  if  I  would 
have  a  well-regulated  house.  Lend  me  my  gown.  And 
what  are  the  news  at  Fairport? ' 

'Ou,  sir,  what  can  they  be  about  but  this  grand  news 
o'  my  lord,'  answered  the  old  man,  'that  hasna  been 
ower  the  doorstane,  they  threep  to  me,  for  this  twenty 
years  —  this  grand  news  of  his  coming  to  visit  your 
honour!' 

'Aha!'  said  Monkbarns,  'and  what  do  they  say  of 
that,  Caxon?' 

'  'Deed,  sir,  they  hae  various  opinions.  Thae  fallows 
that  are  the  democraws,  as  they  ca'  them,  that  are 
again'  the  king  and  the  law,  and  hair  powder  and  dress- 
ing o'  gentlemen's  wigs  —  a  wheen  blackguards !  — 
they  say  he 's  come  doun  to  speak  wi'  your  honour  about 
bringing  doun  his  hill  lads  and  Highland  tenantry  to 
break  up  the  meetings  of  the  Friends  o'  the  People;  and 
when  I  said  your  honour  never  meddled  wi'  the  like  o' 
sic  things  where  there  was  hke  to  be  straiks  and  blood- 
shed, they  said,  if  ye  didna,  your  nevoy  did,  and  that  he 
was  weel  kend  to  be  a  king's-man  that  wad  fight  knee- 
deep,  and  that  ye  were  the  head  and  he  was  the  hand, 
6  6s 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


and  that  the  Yerl  was  to  bring  out  the  men  and  the 
siller.' 

^Come/  said  the  Antiquary,  laughing,  'I  am  glad  the 
war  is  to  cost  me  nothing  but  counsel.' 

*Na,  na,'  said  Caxon,  ^naebody  thinks  your  honour 
wad  either  fight  yoursell  or  gie  ony  feck  o'  siller  to  ony 
side  o'  the  question.' 

'Umph!  well,  that's  the  opinion  of  the  democraws,as 
you  call  them.   What  say  the  rest  of  Fairport?' 

'In  troth,'  said  the  candid  reporter,  'I  canna  say  it 's 
muckle  better.  Captain  Coquet,  of  the  volunteers  — 
that 's  him  that 's  to  be  the  new  collector  —  and  some  of 
the  other  gentlemen  of  the  Blue  and  a'  Blue  Club,  are 
just  saying  it 's  no  right  to  let  papists  that  hae  sae  mony 
French  friends  as  the  Yerl  of  Glenallan  gang  through 
the  coimtry,  and  —  but  your  honour  will  maybe  be 
angry? ' 

'Not  I,  Caxon,'  said  Oldbuck;  'fire  away  as  if  you 
were  Captain  Coquet's  whole  platoon,  I  can  stand  it.' 

'  Weel,  then,  they  say,  sir,  that  as  ye  didna  encourage 
the  petition  about  the  peace,  and  wadna  petition  in  fa- 
vour of  the  new  tax,  and  as  ye  were  again'  bringing  in  the 
yeomanry  at  the  meal  mob,  but  just  for  settling  the  folk 
wi'  the  constables  —  they  say  ye  're  no  a  gude  friend  to 
government;  and  that  thae  sort  o'  meetings  between  sic 
a  powerfu'  man  as  the  Yerl  and  sic  a  wise  man  as  you  — 
od,  they  think  they  suld  be  lookit  after,  and  some  say 
ye  should  baith  be  shankit  aff  till  Edinburgh  Castle.' 

'On  my  word,'  said  the  Antiquary,  'I  am  infinitely 
obliged  to  my  neighbours  for  their  good  opinion  of  me! 
And  so  I,  that  have  never  interfered  with  their  bicker- 
ings but  to  recommend  quiet  and  moderate  measures, 

66 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

am  given  up  on  both  sides  as  a  man  very  likely  to  com- 
mit high  treason,  either  against  king  or  people?  Give 
me  my  coat,  Caxon  —  give  me  my  coat.  It 's  lucky  I 
live  not  in  their  report.  Have  you  heard  anything  of 
Taffril  and  his  vessel? ' 

Caxon's  countenance  fell.  ^Na,  sir,  and  the  winds  hae 
been  high,  and  this  is  a  fearfu'  coast  to  cruise  on  in  thae 
eastern  gales:  the  headlands  rin  sae  far  out  that  a 
veshell 's  embayed  afore  I  could  sharp  a  razor;  and  then 
there's  nae  harbour  or  city  of  refuge  on  our  coast,  a' 
craigs  and  breakers.  A  veshell  that  rins  ashore  wi'  us 
flees  asunder  like  the  powther  when  I  shake  the  pluff, 
and  it 's  as  ill  to  gather  ony  o't  again.  I  aye  tell  my 
daughter  thae  things  when  she  grows  wearied  for  a  letter 
frae  Lieutenant  Taffril.  It 's  aye  an  apology  for  him. 

Ye  suldna  blame  him,"  says  I,  ^'hinny,  for  ye  little  ken 
what  may  hae  happened."' 

^  Ay,  ay,  Caxon,  thou  art  as  good  a  comforter  as  a  valet- 
de-chambre.  Give  me  a  white  stock,  man;  d'ye  think 
I  can  go  down  with  a  handkerchief  about  my  neck  when 
I  have  company?' 

'Dear  sir,  the  Captain  says  a  three-nookit  hankercher 
is  the  maist  fashionable  overlay,  and  that  stocks  belang 
to  your  honour  and  me  that  are  auld-warld  folk.  I  beg 
pardon  for  mentioning  us  twa  thegither,  but  it  was  what 
he  said.' 

*  The  Captain 's  a  puppy,  and  you  are  a  goose,  Caxon.' 

'It 's  very  like  it  may  be  sae,'  replied  the  acquiescent 
barber;  'I  am  sure  your  honour  kens  best.' 

Before  breakfast  Lord  Glenallan,  who  appeared  in 
better  spirits  than  he  had  evinced  in  the  former  evening, 
went  particularly  through  the  various  circumstances  of 

67 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


evidence  which  the  exertions  of  Oldbuck  had  formerly 
collected;  and,  pointing  out  the  means  which  he  pos- 
sessed of  completing  the  proof  of  his  marriage,  expressed 
his  resolution  instantly  to  go  through  the  painful  task 
of  collecting  and  restoring  the  evidence  concerning  the 
birth  of  Evehne  Neville  which  Elspeth  had  stated  to  be 
in  his  mother's  possession. 

^And  yet,  Mr.  Oldbuck,'  he  said,  *I  feel  like  a  man 
who  receives  important  tidings  ere  he  is  yet  fully  awake, 
and  doubt  whether  they  refer  to  actual  life  or  are  not 
rather  a  continuation  of  his  dream.  This  woman  —  this 
Elspeth  —  she  is  in  the  extremity  of  age,  and  approach- 
ing in  many  respects  to  dotage.  Have  I  not  —  it  is 
a  hideous  question  —  have  I  not  been  hasty  in  the 
admission  of  her  present  evidence,  against  that  which 
she  formerly  gave  me  to  a  very  —  very  different  pur- 
pose ? ' 

Mr.  Oldbuck  paused  a  moment,  and  then  answered 
with  firmness  —  ^No,  my  lord,  I  cannot  think  you  have 
any  reason  to  suspect  the  truth  of  what  she  has  told  you 
last,  from  no  apparent  impulse  but  the  urgency  of  con- 
science. Her  confession  was  voluntary,  disinterested, 
distinct,  consistent  with  itself,  and  with  all  the  other 
known  circumstances  of  the  case.  I  would  lose  no  time, 
however,  in  examining  and  arranging  the  other  docu- 
ments to  which  she  has  referred,  and  I  also  think  her  own 
statement  should  be  taken  down,  if  possible,  in  a  formal 
manner.  We  thought  of  setting  about  this  together. 
But  it  will  be  a  relief  to  your  lordship,  and,  moreover, 
have  a  more  impartial  appearance,  were  I  to  attempt  the 
investigation  alone,  in  the  capacity  of  a  magistrate.  I 
will  do  this  —  at  least  I  will  attempt  it  —  so  soon  as  I 

68 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

shall  see  her  in  a  favourable  state  of  mind  to  undergo 
an  examination.' 

Lord  Glenallan  wrung  the  Antiquary's  hand  in  token 
of  grateful  acquiescence.  cannot  express  to  you/  he 
said,  *Mr.  Oldbuck,  how  much  your  countenance  and 
cooperation  in  this  dark  and  most  melancholy  business 
gives  me  relief  and  confidence.  I  cannot  enough  applaud 
myself  for  yielding  to  the  sudden  impulse  which  impelled 
me,  as  it  were,  to  drag  you  into  my  confidence,  and  which 
arose  from  the  experience  I  had  formerly  of  your  firm- 
ness in  discharge  of  your  duty  as  a  magistrate  and  as  a 
friend  to  the  memory  of  the  unfortunate.  Whatever  the 
issue  of  these  matters  may  prove  —  and  I  would  fain 
hope  there  is  a  dawn  breaking  on  the  fortunes  of  my 
house,  though  I  shall  not  live  to  enjoy  its  light  —  but 
whatsoever  be  the  issue,  you  have  laid  my  family  and 
me  under  the  most  lasting  obligation.' 

^My  lord,'  answered  the  Antiquary,  *I  must  neces- 
sarily have  the  greatest  respect  for  your  lordship's  fam- 
ily, which  I  am  well  aware  is  one  of  the  most  ancient  in 
Scotland,  being  certainly  derived  from  Aymer  de  Geral- 
din,  who  sat  in  parliament  at  Perth,  in  the  reign  of  Alex- 
ander II,  and  who,  by  the  less  vouched  yet  plausible 
tradition  of  the  country,  is  said  to  have  been  descended 
from  the  Marmor  of  Clochnaben.  Yet,  with  all  my  ven- 
eration for  your  ancient  descent,  I  must  acknowledge 
that  I  find  myself  still  more  bound  to  give  your  lordship 
what  assistance  is  in  my  limited  power,  from  sincere  sym- 
pathy with  your  sorrows  and  detestation  at  the  frauds 
which  have  so  long  been  practised  upon  you.  But,  my 
lord,  the  matin  meal  is,  I  see,  now  prepared.  Permit  me 
to  show  your  lordship  the  way  through  the  intricacies  of 

69 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


my  coenohitium,  which  is  rather  a  combination  of  cells, 
jostled  oddly  together,  and  piled  one  upon  the  top  of  the 
other,  than  a  regular  house.  I  trust  you  will  make  your- 
self some  amends  for  the  spare  diet  of  yesterday.' 

But  this  was  no  part  of  Lord  Glenallan's  system. 
Having  saluted  the  company  with  the  grave  and  melan- 
choly poHteness  which  distinguished  his  manners,  his 
servant  placed  before  him  a  sUce  of  toasted  bread,  with 
a  glass  of  fair  water,  being  the  fare  on  which  he  usually 
broke  his  fast.  While  the  morning's  meal  of  the  young 
soldier  and  the  old  Antiquary  was  despatched  in  a 
much  more  substantial  manner,  the  noise  of  wheels  was 
heard. 

'Your  lordship's  carriage,  I  believe,'  said  Oldbuck, 
stepping  to  the  window.  'On  my  word,  a  handsome 
quadriga,  for  such,  according  to  the  best  scholium,  was 
the  vox  signata  of  the  Romans  for  a  chariot  which,  Uke 
that  of  your  lordship,  was  drawn  by  four  horses.' 

'And  I  will  venture  to  say,'  cried  Hector,  eagerly 
gazing  from  the  window, '  that  four  handsomer  or  bet- 
ter matched  bays  never  were  put  in  harness.  What 
fine  forehands!  What  capital  chargers  they  would 
make!  Might  I  ask  if  they  are  of  your  lordship's  own 
breeding?' 

'I  —  I  —  rather  believe  so,'  said  Lord  Glenallan;  'but 
I  have  been  so  negligent  of  my  domestic  matters  that 
I  am  ashamed  to  say  I  must  apply  to  Calvert'  (looking 
at  the  domestic). 

'They  are  of  your  lordship's  own  breeding,'  said  Cal- 
vert, 'got  by  Mad  Tom  out  of  Jemima  and  Yarico,  your 
lordship's  brood  mares.' 

'Are  there  more  of  the  set?'  said  Lord  Glenallan. 


70 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

'Two,  my  lord  —  one  rising  four,  the  other  five  off 
this  grass,  both  very  handsome/ 

^Then  let  Dawkins  bring  them  down  to  Monkbarns 
to-morrow,'  said  the  Earl.  hope  Captain  M'Intyre 
will  accept  them,  if  they  are  at  all  fit  for  service/ 

Captain  M'Intyre's  eyes  sparkled,  and  he  was  profuse 
in  grateful  acknowledgments;  while  Oldbuck,  on  the 
other  hand,  seizing  the  Earl's  sleeve,  endeavoured  to 
intercept  a  present  which  boded  no  good  to  his  corn- 
chest  and  hay-loft. 

*  My  lord — my  lord — much  obliged — much  obliged. 
But  Hector  is  a  pedestrian,  and  never  mounts  on  horse- 
back in  battle.  He  is  a  Highland  soldier,  moreover,  and 
his  dress  ill  adapted  for  cavalry  service.  Even  Macpher- 
son  never  mounted  his  ancestors  on  horseback,  though 
he  has  the  impudence  to  talk  of  their  being  car-borne; 
and  that,  my  lord,  is  what  is  running  in  Hector's  head: 
it  is  the  vehicular,  not  the  equestrian  exercise,  which 
he  envies  — 

Sunt  quos  curriculo  pulverem  Olympicum 
Collegisse  juvat. 

His  noddle  is  running  on  a  curricle,  which  he  has  neither 
money  to  buy  nor  skill  to  drive  if  he  had  it;  and  I  assure 
your  lordship  that  the  possession  of  two  such  quadru- 
peds would  prove  a  greater  scrape  than  any  of  his 
duels,  whether  with  human  foe  or  with  my  friend  the 
phoca.^ 

^  You  must  command  us  all  at  present,  Mr.  Oldbuck,' 
said  the  Earl,  politely,  'but  I  trust  you  will  not  ulti- 
mately prevent  my  gratifying  my  young  friend  in  some 
way  that  may  afford  him  pleasure?' 

71 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


^Anything  useful,  my  lord/  said  Oldbuck,  'but  no 
curriculum :  I  protest  he  might  as  rationally  propose  to 
keep  a  quadriga  at  once.  And,  now  I  think  of  it,  what  is 
that  old  post-chaise  from  Fairport  come  jingling  here 
for?  I  did  not  send  for  it/ 

'/  did,  sir,'  said  Hector,  rather  sulkily,  for  he  was  not 
much  gratified  by  his  uncle's  interference  to  prevent  the 
Earl's  intended  generosity,  nor  particularly  inclined  to 
relish  either  the  disparagement  which  he  cast  upon  his 
skill  as  a  charioteer  or  the  mortifying  allusion  to  his  bad 
success  in  the  adventures  of  the  duel  and  the  seal. 

*  You  did,  sir?'  echoed  the  Antiquary,  in  answer  to  his 
concise  information.  '  And  pray,  what  may  be  your  busi- 
ness with  a  post-chaise?  Is  this  splendid  equipage  — 
this  higa,  as  I  may  call  it  —  to  serve  for  an  introduction 
to  a  quadriga  or  a  curriculum?^ 

'Really,  sir,'  repHed  the  young  soldier,  'if  it  be  neces- 
sary to  give  you  such  a  specific  explanation,  I  am  going 
to  Fairport  on  a  Httle  business.' 

'  Will  you  permit  me  to  inquire  into  the  nature  of  that 
business.  Hector?'  answered  his  uncle,  who  loved  the 
exercise  of  a  little  brief  authority  over  his  relative.  'I 
should  suppose  any  regimental  affairs  might  be  trans- 
acted by  your  worthy  deputy  the  sergeant  —  an  honest 
gentleman,  who  is  so  good  as  to  make  Monkbarns  his 
home  since  his  arrival  among  us  —  I  should,  I  say,  sup- 
pose that  he  may  transact  any  business  of  yours,  without 
your  spending  a  day's  pay  on  two  dog-horses  and  such 
a  combination  of  rotten  wood,  cracked  glass,  and  leather 
—  such  a  skeleton  of  a  post-chaise,  as  that  before  the 
door.' 

'It  is  not  regimental  business,  sir,  that  calls  me;  and, 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

since  you  insist  upon  knowing,  I  must  inform  you, 
Caxon  has  brought  word  this  morning  that  old  Ochil- 
tree, the  beggar,  is  to  be  brought  up  for  examination 
to-day,  previous  to  his  being  committed  for  trial;  and 
I  am  going  to  see  that  the  poor  old  fellow  gets  fair  play 

—  that's  all/ 

*Ay?  I  heard  something  of  this,  but  could  not  think 
it  serious.  And  pray,  Captain  Hector,  who  are  so  ready 
to  be  every  man's  second  on  all  occasions  of  strife,  civil 
or  mihtary,  by  land,  by  water,  or  on  the  sea-beach,  what 
is  your  especial  concern  with  old  Edie  Ochiltree?' 

'He  was  a  soldier  in  my  father's  company,  sir,'  replied 
Hector;  'and  besides,  when  I  was  about  to  do  a  very 
foolish  thing  one  day,  he  interfered  to  prevent  me,  and 
gave  me  almost  as  much  good  advice,  sir,  as  you  could 
have  done  yourself.' 

'And  with  the  same  good  effect,  I  dare  be  sworn  for  it 

—  eh,  Hector?  Come,  confess  it  was  thrown  away.' 
'Indeed  it  was,  sir;  but  I  see  no  reason  that  my  folly 

should  make  me  less  grateful  for  his  intended  kindness/ 
'Bravo,  Hector!  that's  the  most  sensible  thing  I  ever 
heard  you  say;  but  always  tell  me  your  plans  without 
reserve.  Why,  I  will  go  with  you  myself,  man;  I  am  sure 
the  old  fellow  is  not  guilty,  and  I  will  assist  him  in  such 
a  scrape  much  more  effectually  than  you  can  do.  Be- 
sides, it  will  save  thee  half-a-guinea,  my  lad,  a  consider- 
ation which  I  heartily  pray  you  to  have  more  frequently 
before  your  eyes.' 

Lord  Glenallan's  poHteness  had  induced  him  to  turn 
away  and  talk  with  the  ladies  when  the  dispute  between 
the  uncle  and  nephew  appeared  to  grow  rather  too  an- 
imated to  be  fit  for  the  ear  of  a  stranger,  but  the  Earl 

73 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


mingled  again  in  the  conversation  when  the  placable 
tone  of  the  Antiquary  expressed  amity.  Having  received 
a  brief  account  of  the  mendicant,  and  of  the  accusation 
brought  against  him,  which  Oldbuck  did  not  hesitate  to 
ascribe  to  the  mahce  of  Dousterswivel,  Lord  Glenallan 
asked  whether  the  individual  in  question  had  not  been 
a  soldier  formerly.  He  was  answered  in  the  affirmative. 

*Had  he  not,'  continued  his  lordship,  'a  coarse  blue 
coat  or  gown,  with  a  badge?  Was  he  not  a  tall,  striking- 
looking  old  man,  with  grey  beard  and  hair,  who  kept 
his  body  remarkably  erect,  and  talked  with  an  air  of 
ease  and  independence  which  formed  a  strong  contrast 
to  his  profession?' 

'AH  this  is  an  exact  picture  of  the  man,'  returned  Old- 
buck. 

'Why,  then,'  continued  Lord  Glenallan,  'although  I 
fear  I  can  be  of  no  use  to  him  in  his  present  condition, 
yet  I  owe  him  a  debt  of  gratitude  for  being  the  first  per- 
son who  brought  me  some  tidings  of  the  utmost  import- 
ance. I  would  willingly  offer  him  a  place  of  comfortable 
retirement  when  he  is  extricated  from  his  present  situa- 
tion.' 

'I  fear,  my  lord,'  said  Oldbuck,  'he  would  have  diffi- 
culty in  reconciling  his  vagrant  habits  to  the  acceptance 
of  your  bounty  —  at  least  I  know  the  experiment  has 
been  tried  without  effect.  To  beg  from  the  public  at 
large  he  considers  as  independence,  in  comparison  to 
drawing  his  whole  support  from  the  bounty  of  an  indi- 
vidual. He  is  so  far  a  true  philosopher  as  to  be  a  con- 
temner of  all  ordinary  rules  of  hours  and  times.  When 
he  is  hungry  he  eats,  when  thirsty  he  drinks,  when  weary 
he  sleeps,  and  with  such  indifference  with  respect  to  the 

74 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

means  and  appliances  about  which  we  make  a  fuss,  that 
I  suppose  he  was  never  ill-dined  or  ill-lodged  in  his  life. 
Then  he  is,  to  a  certain  extent,  the  oracle  of  the  district 
through  which  he  travels  —  their  genealogist,  their 
newsman,  their  master  of  the  revels,  their  doctor  at  a 
pinch,  or  their  divine;  I  promise  you  he  has  too  many- 
duties,  and  is  too  zealous  in  performing  them,  to  be 
easily  bribed  to  abandon  his  calling.  But  I  should  be 
truly  sorry  if  they  sent  the  poor  light-hearted  old  man  to 
lie  for  weeks  in  a  jail.  I  am  convinced  the  confinement 
would  break  his  heart.' 

Thus  finished  the  conference.  Lord  Glenallan,  having 
taken  leave  of  the  ladies,  renewed  his  offer  to  Captain 
MTntyre  of  the  freedom  of  his  manors  for  sporting, 
which  was  joyously  accepted. 

'I  can  only  add,'  he  said,  Hhat,  if  your  spirits  are  not 
liable  to  be  damped  by  dull  company,  Glenallan  House 
is  at  all  times  open  to  you.  On  two  days  of  the  week, 
Friday  and  Saturday,  I  keep  my  apartment,  which  will 
be  rather  a  rehef  to  you,  as  you  will  be  left  to  enjoy  the 
society  of  my  almoner,  Mr.  Gladsmoor,  who  is  a  scholar 
and  a  man  of  the  world.' 

Hector,  his  heart  exulting  at  the  thoughts  of  ranging 
through  the  preserves  of  Glenallan  House,  and  over  the 
well-protected  moors  of  Clochnaben  —  nay,  joy  of  joys, 
the  deer-forest  of  Strathbonnel,  made  many  acknow- 
ledgments of  the  honour  and  gratitude  he  felt.  Mr.  Old- 
buck  was  sensible  of  the  Earl's  attention  to  his  nephew; 
Miss  M'Intyre  was  pleased  because  her  brother  was 
gratified;  and  Miss  Griselda  Oldbuck  looked  forward 
with  glee  to  the  potting  of  whole  bags  of  moor-fowl  and 
black-game,  of  which  Mr.  Blattergowl  was  a  professed 

75 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


admirer.  Thus  —  which  is  always  the  case  when  a  man 
of  rank  leaves  a  private  family  where  he  has  studied  to 
appear  obliging  —  all  were  ready  to  open  in  praise  of  the 
Earl  as  soon  as  he  had  taken  his  leave,  and  was  wheeled 
off  in  his  chariot  by  the  four  admired  bays.  But  the 
panegyric  was  cut  short,  for  Oldbuck  and  his  nephew 
deposited  themselves  in  the  Fairport  hack,  which,  with 
one  horse  trotting  and  the  other  urged  to  a  canter, 
creaked,  jingled,  and  hobbled  towards  that  celebrated 
seaport,  in  a  manner  that  formed  a  strong  contrast  to 
the  rapidity  and  smoothness  with  which  Lord  Glenal- 
lan's  equipage  had  seemed  to  vanish  from  their  eyes. 


CHAPTER  XXXVII 


Yes!  I  love  justice  well,  as  well  as  you  do; 

But  since  the  good  dame's  blind,  she  shall  excuse  me 

If,  time  and  reason  fitting,  I  prove  dumb. 

The  breath  I  utter  now  shall  be  no  means 

To  take  away  from  me  my  breath  in  future. 

Old  Play. 

By  dint  of  charity  from  the  town's  people  in  aid  of  the 
load  of  provisions  he  had  brought  with  him  into  durance, 
Edie  Ochiltree  had  passed  a  day  or  two's  confinement 
without  much  impatience,  regretting  his  want  of  free- 
dom the  less  as  the  weather  proved  broken  and  rainy. 

^The  prison/  he  said,  'wasna  sae  dooms  bad  a  place 
as  it  was  ca'd.  Ye  had  aye  a  good  roof  ower  your  head 
to  fend  aff  the  weather,  and,  if  the  windows  werena 
glazed,  it  was  the  mair  airy  and  pleasant  for  the  summer 
season.  And  there  were  folk  enow  to  crack  wi',  and  he 
had  bread  eneugh  to  eat,  and  what  need  he  fash  himsell 
about  the  rest  o't? ' 

The  courage  of  our  philosophical  mendicant  began, 
however,  to  abate  when  the  sunbeams  shone  fair  on  the 
rusty  bars  of  his  grated  dungeon,  and  a  miserable  linnet, 
whose  cage  some  poor  debtor  had  obtained  permission 
to  attach  to  the  window,  began  to  greet  them  with  his 
whistle. 

*  Ye  're  in  better  spirits  than  I  am,'  said  Edie,  address- 
ing the  bird,  ^for  I  can  neither  whistle  nor  sing  for 
thinking  o'  the  bonnie  burnsides  and  green  shaws  that 
I  should  hae  been  dandering  beside  in  weather  like  this. 
But  hae,  there's  some  crumbs  t'  ye,  an  ye  are  sae  merry; 

77 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


and  troth  ye  hae  some  reason  to  sing  an  ye  kent  it,  for 
your  cage  comes  by  nae  faut  o'  your  ain,  and  I  may 
thank  mysell  that  I  am  closed  up  in  this  weary  place.' 

Ochiltree's  soHloquy  was  disturbed  by  a  peace-officer, 
who  came  to  summon  him  to  attend  the  magistrate.  So 
he  set  forth  in  awful  procession,  between  two  poor  crea- 
tures, neither  of  them  so  stout  as  he  was  himself,  to  be 
conducted  into  the  presence  of  inquisitorial  justice.  The 
people,  as  the  aged  prisoner  was  led  along  by  his  decrepit 
guards,  exclaimed  to  each  other,  *Eh!  see  sic  a  grey- 
haired  man  as  that  is,  to  have  committed  a  highway 
robbery  wi'  ae  fit  in  the  grave!'  And  the  children  con- 
gratulated the  officers,  objects  of  their  alternate  dread 
and  sport,  Puggie  Orrock  and  Jock  Ormston,  on  having 
a  prisoner  as  old  as  themselves. 

Thus  marshalled  forward,  Edie  was  presented  (by  no 
means  for  the  first  time)  before  the  worshipful  Bailie 
Littlejohn,  who,  contrary  to  what  his  name  expressed, 
was  a  tall  portly  magistrate,  on  whom  corporation  crusts 
had  not  been  conferred  in  vain.  He  was  a  zealous  loyal- 
ist of  that  zealous  time,  somewhat  rigorous  and  peremp- 
tory in  the  execution  of  his  duty,  and  a  good  deal  inflated 
with  the  sense  of  his  own  power  and  importance,  other- 
wise an  honest,  well-meaning,  and  useful  citizen. 

^ Bring  him  in,  bring  him  in!'  he  exclaimed.  ^Upon 
my  word,  these  are  awful  and  unnatural  times:  the  very 
bedesmen  and  retainers  of  his  Majesty  are  the  first  to 
break  his  laws.  Here  has  been  an  old  Blue-Gown  com- 
mitting robbery!  I  suppose  the  next  will  reward  the 
royal  charity,  which  supplies  him  with  his  garb,  pension, 
and  begging  license,  by  engaging  in  high  treason  or 
sedition  at  least.  But  bring  him  in/ 

78 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

Edie  made  his  obeisance,  and  then  stood,  as  usual, 
firm  and  erect,  with  the  side  of  his  face  turned  a  little 
upward,  as  if  to  catch  every  word  which  the  magistrate 
might  address  to  him.  To  the  first  general  questions, 
which  respected  only  his  name  and  calling,  the  mendi- 
cant answered  with  readiness  and  accuracy;  but  when 
the  magistrate,  having  caused  his  clerk  to  take  down 
these  particulars,  began  to  inquire  whereabout  the 
mendicant  was  on  the  night  when  Dousterswivel  met 
with  his  misfortune,  Edie  demurred  to  the  motion. 
^Can  ye  tell  me  now.  Bailie,  you  that  understands  the 
law,  what  gude  will  it  do  me  to  answer  ony  o'  your 
questions? ' 

*Good?  no  good  certainly,  my  friend,  except  that 
giving  a  true  account  of  yourself,  if  you  are  innocent, 
may  entitle  me  to  set  you  at  liberty.' 

*  But  it  seems  mair  reasonable  to  me,  now,  that  you, 
Bailie,  or  ony  body  that  has  ony  thing  to  say  against  me, 
should  prove  my  guilt,  and  no  to  be  bidding  me  prove 
my  innocence.' 

*I  don't  sit  here,'  answered  the  magistrate, '  to  dispute 
points  of  law  with  you.  I  ask  you,  if  you  choose  to 
answer  my  question,  whether  you  were  at  Ringan  Aik- 
wood  the  forester's  upon  the  day  I  have  specified? ' 

^Really,  sir,  I  dinna  feel  myself  called  on  to  remember,^ 
rephed  the  cautious  bedesman. 

^Or  whether,  in  the  course  of  that  day  or  night,'  con- 
tinued the  magistrate,  'you  saw  Steven,  or  Steenie, 
Mucklebackit?  You  knew  him,  I  suppose?' 

'0  brawHe  did  I  ken  Steenie,  puir  fallow,'  rephed  the 
prisoner;  'but  I  canna  condeshend  on  ony  particular 
time  I  have  seen  him  lately.' 

7Q 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


'Were  you  at  the  ruins  of  St.  Ruth  any  time  in  the 
course  of  that  evening? ' 

'  Bailie  Littlejohn/  said  the  mendicant,  'if  it  be  your 
honour's  pleasure,  we'll  cut  a  lang  tale  short,  and  I'll 
just  tell  ye  I  am  no  minded  to  answer  ony  o'  thae  ques- 
tions. I 'm  ower  auld  a  traveller  to  let  my  tongue  bring 
me  into  trouble.' 

'Write  down,'  said  the  magistrate,  'that  he  declines  to 
answer  all  interrogatories,  in  respect  that  by  teUing  the 
truth  he  might  be  brought  to  trouble.' 

'Na,  na,'  said  Ochiltree,  'I'll  no  hae  that  set  down  as 
ony  part  o'  my  answer;  but  I  just  meant  to  say,  that  in 
a'  my  memory  and  practice  I  never  saw  ony  gude  come 
o'  answering  idle  questions.' 

'Write  down,'  said  the  Bailie,  'that,  being  acquainted 
with  judicial  interrogatories  by  long  practice,  and  hav- 
ing sustained  injury  by  answering  questions  put  to  him 
on  such  occasions,  the  declarant  refuses  — ' 

'Na,  na,  Bailie,'  reiterated  Edie,  'ye  are  no  to  come 
in  on  me  that  gait  neither.' 

'Dictate  the  answer  yourself  then,  friend,'  said  the 
magistrate,  'and  the  clerk  will  take  it  down  from  your 
own  mouth.' 

'Ay,  ay,'  said  Edie,  'that's  what  I  ca'  fair  play;  I'se 
do  that  without  loss  o'  time.  Sae,  neighbour,  ye  may 
just  write  down  that  Edie  Ochiltree,  the  declarant, 
stands  up  for  the  liberty  —  na,  I  maunna  say  that  nei- 
ther, I  am  nae  Liberty  Boy;  I  hae  fought  again'  them  in 
the  riots  in  Dublin;  besides,  I  have  ate  the  king's  bread 
mony  a  day.  Stay,  let  me  see.  Ay,  write  that  Edie 
Ochiltree,  the  Blue-Gown,  stands  up  for  the  preroga- 
tive —  see  that  ye  spell  that  word  right,  it's  a  lang  ane 

80 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


—  for  the  prerogative  of  the  subjects  of  the  land,  and 
winna  answer  a  single  word  that  sail  be  asked  at  him 
this  day,  unless  he  sees  a  reason  for 't.  Put  down  that, 
young  man/ 

'Then,  Edie,'  said  the  magistrate,  'since  you  will  give 
me  no  information  on  the  subject,  I  must  send  you  back 
to  prison  till  you  shall  be  deUvered  in  due  course  of  law/ 

'Aweel,  sir,  if  it's  Heaven's  will  and  man's  will,  nae 
doubt  I  maun  submit,'  replied  the  mendicant.  'I  hae 
nae  great  objection  to  the  prison,  only  that  a  body  canna 
win  out  o't;  and  if  it  wad  please  you  as  weel.  Bailie,  I 
wad  gie  you  my  word  to  appear  afore  the  Lords  at  the 
Circuit,  or  in  ony  other  court  ye  like,  on  ony  day  ye  are 
pleased  to  appoint.' 

'I  rather  think,  my  good  friend,'  answered  Bailie  Lit- 
tlejohn,  'your  word  might  be  a  slender  security  where 
your  neck  may  be  in  some  danger.  I  am  apt  to  think 
you  would  suffer  the  pledge  to  be  forfeited.  If  you  could 
give  me  sufficient  security,  indeed  — ' 

At  this  moment  the  Antiquary  and  Captain  M'Intyre 
entered  the  apartment.  '  Good  morning  to  you,  gentle- 
men,' said  the  magistrate;  'you  find  me  toiling  in  my 
usual  vocation,  looking  after  the  iniquities  of  the  people; 
labouring  for  the  respuUica,  Mr.  Oldbuck;  serving  the 
king  our  master.  Captain  M'Intyre,  for  I  suppose  you 
know  I  have  taken  up  the  sword?' 

'It  is  one  of  the  emblems  of  justice,  doubtless,'  an- 
swered the  Antiquary;  'but  I  should  have  thought  the 
scales  would  have  suited  you  better.  Bailie,  especially  as 
you  have  them  ready  in  the  warehouse.' 

'  Very  good,  Monkbarns,  excellent.  But  I  do  not  take 
the  sword  up  as  justice,  but  as  a  soldier;  indeed,  I  should 
6  8i 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


rather  say  the  musket  and  bayonet;  there  they  stand  at 
the  elbow  of  my  gouty  chair,  for  I  am  scarce  fit  for  drill 
yet.  A  slight  touch  of  our  old  acquaintance  podagra.  I 
can  keep  my  feet,  however,  while  our  sergeant  puts  me 
through  the  manual.  I  should  like  to  know.  Captain 
M'Intyre,  if  he  follows  the  regulations  correctly;  he 
brings  us  but  awkwardly  to  the  "present.'"  And  he 
hobbled  towards  his  weapon  to  illustrate  his  doubts 
and  display  his  proficiency. 

rejoice  we  have  such  zealous  defenders.  Bailie,'  re- 
plied Mr.  Oldbuck;  ^and  I  daresay  Hector  will  gratify 
you  by  communicating  his  opinion  on  your  progress  in 
this  new  calling.  Why,  you  rival  the  Hecate  of  the  an- 
cients, my  good  sir  —  a  merchant  on  the  mart,  a  magis- 
trate in  the  town-house,  a  soldier  on  the  links;  quid  non 
pro  patria?  But  my  business  is  with  the  justice;  so  let 
commerce  and  war  go  slumber.' 

^Well,  my  good  sir,'  said  the  Bailie,  ^and  what  com- 
mands have  you  for  me?' 

*Why,  here's  an  old  acquaintance  of  mine,  called 
Edie  Ochiltree,  whom  some  of  your  myrmidons  have 
mewed  up  in  jail  on  account  of  an  alleged  assault  on  that 
fellow  Dousterswivel,  of  whose  accusation  I  do  not  be- 
lieve one  word.' 

The  magistrate  here  assumed  a  very  grave  counten- 
ance. ^You  ought  to  have  been  informed  that  he  is 
accused  of  robbery  as  well  as  assault  —  a  very  serious 
matter  indeed;  it  is  not  often  such  criminals  come  under 
my  cognizance.' 

'And,'  replied  Oldbuck,  'you  are  tenacious  of  the 
opportunity  of  making  the  very  most  of  such  as  occur. 
But  is  this  poor  old  man's  case  really  so  very  bad? ' 

82 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

*It  is  rather  out  of  rule/  said  the  Bailie/ but,  as  you 
are  in  the  commission,  Monkbarns,  I  have  no  hesitation 
to  show  you  DousterswiveFs  declaration  and  the  rest  of 
the  precognition.'  And  he  put  the  papers  into  the  Anti- 
quary's hands,  who  assumed  his  spectacles  and  sat 
down  in  a  corner  to  peruse  them. 

The  officers  in  the  meantime  had  directions  to  re- 
move their  prisoner  into  another  apartment;  but  before 
they  could  do  so  MTntyre  took  an  opportunity  to  greet 
old  Edie  and  to  slip  a  guinea  into  his  hand. 

*Lord  bless  your  honour,'  said  the  old  man;  ^ it's  a 
young  soldier's  gift,  and  it  should  surely  thrive  wi'  an 
auld  ane.  I'se  no  refuse  it,  though  it's  beyond  my 
rules;  for,  if  they  steek  me  up  here,  my  friends  are  like 
eneugh  to  forget  me:  '^Out  o'  sight  out  o'  mind"  is  a 
true  proverb.  And  it  wadna  be  creditable  for  me, 
that  am  the  king's  bedesman,  and  entitled  to  beg  by 
word  of  mouth,  to  be  fishing  for  bawbees  out  at  the  jail 
window  wi'  the  fit  o'  a  stocking  and  a  string.'  As  he 
made  this  observation  he  was  conducted  out  of  the 
apartment. 

Mr.  Dousterswivel's  declaration  contained  an  exag- 
gerated account  of  the  violence  he  had  sustained  and 
also  of  his  loss. 

'But  what  I  should  have  liked  to  have  asked  him,^ 
said  Monkbarns,  'would  have  been  his  purpose  in  fre- 
quenting the  ruins  of  St.  Ruth,  so  lonely  a  place,  at  such 
an  hour,  and  with  such  a  companion  as  Edie  Ochiltree. 
There  is  no  road  lies  that  way,  and  I  do  not  conceive  a 
mere  passion  for  the  picturesque  would  carry  the  Ger- 
man thither  in  such  a  night  of  storm  and  wind.  Depend 
upon  it,  he  has  been  about  some  roguery,  and  in  all 

83 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


probability  hath  been  caught  in  a  trap  of  his  own  set- 
ting; nec  lex  justitior  ullaJ 

The  magistrate  allowed  there  was  something  myste- 
rious in  that  circumstance,  and  apologised  for  not  press- 
ing Dousterswivel,  as  his  declaration  was  voluntarily 
emitted.  But  for  the  support  of  the  main  charge  he 
showed  the  declaration  of  the  Aikwoods  concerning  the 
state  in  which  Dousterswivel  was  found,  and  establish- 
ing the  important  fact  that  the  mendicant  had  left  the 
barn  in  which  he  was  quartered,  and  did  not  return  to  it 
again.  Two  people  belonging  to  the  Fairport  under- 
taker, who  had  that  night  been  employed  in  attending 
the  funeral  of  Lady  Glenallan,  had  also  given  declara- 
tions that,  being  sent  to  pursue  two  suspicious  persons 
who  left  the  ruins  of  St.  Ruth  as  the  funeral  approached, 
and  who,  it  was  supposed,  might  have  been  pillaging 
some  of  the  ornaments  prepared  for  the  ceremony,  they 
had  lost  and  regained  sight  of  them  more  than  once, 
owing  to  the  nature  of  the  ground,  which  was  unfavour- 
able for  riding,  but  had  at  length  fairly  lodged  them  both 
in  Mucklebackit's  cottage.  And  one  of  the  men  added, 
that  ^he,  the  declarant,  having  dismounted  from  his 
horse  and  gone  close  up  to  the  window  of  the  hut,  he 
saw  the  old  Blue-Gown  and  young  Steenie  Mucklebackit, 
with  others,  eating  and  drinking  in  the  inside,  and  also 
observed  the  said  Steenie  Mucklebackit  show  a  pocket- 
book  to  the  others;  and  declarant  has  no  doubt  that 
Ochiltree  and  Steenie  Mucklebackit  were  the  persons 
whom  he  and  his  comrade  had  pursued,  as  above  men- 
tioned.' And  being  interrogated  why  he  did  not  enter 
the  said  cottage,  declares,  'he  had  no  warrant  so  to  do; 
and  that,  as  Mucklebackit  and  his  family  were  under- 

84 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

stood  to  be  rough-handed  folk,  he,  the  declarant,  had  no 
desire  to  meddle  or  make  with  their  affairs.  Causa 
scienticB  patet.  All  which  he  declares  to  be  truth,'  etc. 

^What  do  you  say  to  that  body  of  evidence  against 
your  friend?'  said  the  magistrate,  when  he  had  observed 
the  Antiquary  had  turned  the  last  leaf. 

^Why,  were  it  in  the  case  of  any  other  person,  I  own  I 
should  say  it  looked  prima  facie  a  little  ugly;  but  I  can- 
not allow  anybody  to  be  in  the  wrong  for  beating  Dous- 
terswivel.  Had  I  been  an  hour  younger,  or  had  but  one 
single  flash  of  your  warlike  genius,  Baihe,  I  should  have 
done  it  myself  long  ago.  He  is  nebulo  nebulonum,  an 
impudent,  fraudulent,  mendacious  quack,  that  has  cost 
me  a  hundred  pounds  by  his  roguery;  and  my  neighbour, 
Sir  Arthur,  God  knows  how  much.  And  besides.  Bailie, 
I  do  not  hold  him  to  be  a  sound  friend  to  government.' 

^Indeed?'  said  Bailie  Littlejohn;  4f  I  thought  that,  it 
would  alter  the  question  considerably.' 

^ Right;  for  in  beating  him,'  observed  Oldbuck,  Hhe 
bedesman  must  have  shown  his  gratitude  to  the  king 
by  thumping  his  enemy;  and  in  robbing  him  he  would 
only  have  plundered  an  Egyptian,  whose  wealth  it  is 
lawful  to  spoil.  Now,  suppose  this  interview  in  the  ruins 
of  St.  Ruth  had  relation  to  politics,  and  this  story  of 
hidden  treasure  and  so  forth  was  a  bribe  from  the  other 
side  of  the  water  for  some  great  man,  or  the  funds 
destined  to  maintain  a  seditious  club?' 

'My  dear  sir,'  said  the  magistrate,  catching  at  the 
idea,  'you  hit  my  very  thoughts!  How  fortunate  should 
I  be  if  I  could  become  the  humble  means  of  sifting  such 
a  matter  to  the  bottom!  Don't  you  think  we  had  better 
call  out  the  volunteers  and  put  them  on  duty?' 

85 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


'Not  just  yet,  while  podagra  deprives  them  of  an  es- 
sential member  of  their  body.  But  will  you  let  me  ex- 
amine Ochiltree? ' 

'  Certainly ;  but  you  '11  make  nothing  of  him.  He  gave 
me  distinctly  to  understand  he  knew  the  danger  of  a 
judicial  declaration  on  the  part  of  an  accused  person, 
which,  to  say  the  truth,  has  hanged  many  an  honester 
man  than  he  is.' 

^Well,  but  Bailie,'  continued  Oldbuck,  ^you  have  no 
objection  to  let  me  try  him? ' 

'None  in  the  world,  Monkbarns.  I  hear  the  sergeant 
below,  I  '11  rehearse  the  manual  in  the  meanwhile.  Baby, 
carry  my  gun  and  bayonet  down  to  the  room  below;  it 
makes  less  noise  there  when  we  ground  arms.'  And  so 
exit  the  martial  magistrate,  with  his  maid  behind  him 
bearing  his  weapons. 

'A  good  squire  that  wench  for  a  gouty  champion,'  ob- 
served Oldbuck.  'Hector,  my  lad,  hook  on,  hook  on. 
Go  with  him,  boy;  keep  him  employed,  man,  for  half  an 
hour  or  so;  butter  him  with  some  warlike  terms;  praise 
his  dress  and  address.' 

Captain  M'lntyre,  who,  like  many  of  his  profession, 
looked  down  with  infinite  scorn  on  those  citizen  soldiers 
who  had  assumed  arms  without  any  professional  title  to 
bear  them,  rose  with  great  reluctance,  observing  that  he 
should  not  know  what  to  say  to  Mr.  Littlejohn,  and  that 
to  see  an  old  gouty  shopkeeper  attempting  the  exercise 
and  duties  of  a  private  soldier  was  really  too  ridiculous. 

'It  may  be  so,  Hector,'  said  the  Antiquary,  who  sel- 
dom agreed  with  any  person  in  the  immediate  proposi- 
tion which  was  laid  down,  'it  may  possibly  be  so  in 
this  and  some  other  instances;  but  at  present  the  coun- 

86 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

try  resembles  the  suitors  in  a  small-debt  court,  where 
parties  plead  in  person  for  lack  of  cash  to  retain  the  pro- 
fessed heroes  of  the  bar.  I  am  sure  in  the  one  case  we 
never  regret  the  want  of  the  acuteness  and  eloquence  of 
the  lawyers;  and  so,  I  hope,  in  the  other  we  may  manage 
to  make  shift  with  our  hearts  and  muskets,  though  we 
shall  lack  some  of  the  discipline  of  you  martinets/ 

'I  have  no  objection,  I  am  sure,  sir,  that  the  whole 
world  should  fight  if  they  please,  if  they  will  but  allow 
me  to  be  quiet,'  said  Hector,  rising  with  dogged  reluct- 
ance. 

*  Yes,  you  are  a  very  quiet  personage  indeed,'  said  his 
uncle,  'whose  ardour  for  quarrelling  cannot  pass  so 
much  as  a  poor  phoca  sleeping  upon  the  beach!' 

But  Hector,  who  saw  which  way  the  conversation  was 
tending,  and  hated  all  allusions  to  the  foil  he  had  sus- 
tained from  the  fish,  made  his  escape  before  the  Anti- 
quary concluded  the  sentence. 


CHAPTER  XXXVIII 


Well,  well,  at  worst,  't  is  neither  theft  nor  coinage. 
Granting  I  knew  all  that  you  charged  me  with. 
What,  tho'  the  tomb  hath  borne  a  second  birth, 
And  given  the  wealth  to  one  that  knew  not  on't. 
Yet  fair  exchange  was  never  robbery, 
Far  less  pure  bounty. 

Old  Play. 

The  Antiquary,  in  order  to  avail  himself  of  the  permis- 
sion given  him  to  question  the  accused  party,  chose 
rather  to  go  to  the  apartment  in  which  Ochiltree  was 
detained  than  to  make  the  examination  appear  formal 
by  bringing  him  again  into  the  magistrate's  office.  He 
found  the  old  man  seated  by  a  window  which  looked  out 
on  the  sea;  and  as  he  gazed  on  that  prospect  large  tears 
found  their  way,  as  if  unconsciously,  to  his  eye,  and 
from  thence  trickled  down  his  cheeks  and  white  beard. 
His  features  were,  nevertheless,  calm  and  composed,  and 
his  whole  posture  and  mien  indicated  patience  and  resig- 
nation. Oldbuck  had  approached  him  without  being 
observed,  and  roused  him  out  of  his  musing  by  saying 
kindly,  'I  am  sorry,  Edie,  to  see  you  so  much  cast  down 
about  this  matter.' 

The  mendicant  started,  dried  his  eyes  very  hastily 
with  the  sleeve  of  his  gown,  and,  endeavouring  to  recover 
his  usual  tone  of  indifference  and  jocularity,  answered, 
but  with  a  voice  more  tremulous  than  usual,  'I  might 
weel  hae  judged,  Monkbarns,  it  was  you,  or  the  like  o' 
you,  was  coming  in  to  disturb  me;  for  it's  ae  great  ad- 
vantage o'  prisons  and  courts  o'  justice,  that  ye  may 

88 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


greet  your  een  out  an  ye  like,  and  nane  o'  the  folk  that's 
concerned  about  them  will  ever  ask  you  what  it's  for/ 

'Well,  Edie,'  replied  Oldbuck,  *I  hope  your  present 
cause  of  distress  is  not  so  bad  but  it  may  be  removed/ 

'And  I  had  hoped,  Monkbarns,'  answered  the  mendi- 
cant in  a  tone  of  reproach, '  that  ye  had  kend  me  better 
than  to  think  that  this  bit  trifling  trouble  o'  my  ain  wad 
bring  tears  into  my  auld  een,  that  hae  seen  far  different 
kind  o'  distress.  Na,  na!  But  here's  been  the  puir  lass, 
Caxon's  daughter,  seeking  comfort,  and  has  gotten  unco 
little.  There's  been  nae  speerings  o'  Taffril's  gun-brig 
since  the  last  gale;  and  folk  report  on  the  key  that  a 
king's  ship  had  struck  on  the  Reef  of  Rattray,  and  a' 
hands  lost.  God  forbid !  for  as  sure  as  you  live.  Monk- 
barns,  the  puir  lad  Lovel,  that  ye  liked  sae  weel,  must 
have  perished.' 

'God  forbid,  indeed!'  echoed  the  Antiquary,  turning 
pale;  'I  would  rather  Monkbarns  House  were  on  fire. 
My  poor  dear  friend  and  coadjutor!  I  will  down  to  the 
quay  instantly.' 

'I'm  sure  ye '11  learn  naething  mair  than  I  hae  tauld 
ye,  sir,'  said  Ochiltree, '  for  the  officer-folk  here  were  very 
civil  —  that  is,  for  the  like  o'  them  —  and  lookit  up  a' 
their  letters  and  authorities,  and  could  thraw  nae  light 
on 't  either  ae  way  or  another.' 

'It  can't  be  true,  it  shall  not  be  true,'  said  the  Anti- 
quary, 'and  I  won't  believe  it  if  it  were.  Taffril's  an 
excellent  seaman,  and  Lovel  —  my  poor  Lovel!  —  has 
all  the  qualities  of  a  safe  and  pleasant  companion  by 
land  or  by  sea  —  one,  Edie,  whom,  from  the  ingenuous- 
ness of  his  disposition,  I  would  choose,  did  I  ever  go  a 
sea  voyage  —  which  I  never  do,  unless  across  the  ferry 

89 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


— fragilem'tnecum  solvere  phaselum,  to  be  the  compan- 
ion of  my  risk,  as  one  against  whom  the  elements  could 
nourish  no  vengeance.  No,  Edie,  it  is  not  and  cannot  be 
true :  it  is  a  fiction  of  the  idle  jade  Rumour,  whom  I  wish 
hanged  with  her  trumpet  about  her  neck,  that  serves 
only  with  its  screech-owl  tones  to  fright  honest  folks  out 
of  their  senses.  Let  me  know  how  you  got  into  this 
scrape  of  your  own.' 

^Are  ye  axing  me  as  a  magistrate,  Monkbarns,  or  is  it 
just  for  your  ain  satisfaction? ' 

*For  my  own  satisfaction  solely,'  repUed  the  Anti- 
quary. 

'Put  up  your  pocket-book  and  your  keelyvine  pen, 
then,  for  I  downa  speak  out  an  ye  hae  writing  materials 
in  your  hands;  they're  a  scaur  to  unlearned  folk  like  me. 
Od,  ane  o'  the  clerks  in  the  neist  room  will  cHnk  down 
in  black  and  white  as  muckle  as  wad  hang  a  man  before 
ane  kens  what  he's  saying.' 

Monkbarns  complied  with  the  old  man's  humour, 
and  put  up  his  memorandum-book. 

Edie  then  went  with  great  frankness  through  the  part 
of  the  story  already  known  to  the  reader,  informing  the 
Antiquary  of  the  scene  which  he  had  witnessed  between 
Dousterswivel  and  his  patron  in  the  ruins  of  St.  Ruth, 
and  frankly  confessing  that  he  could  not  resist  the  op- 
portunity of  decoying  the  adept  once  more  to  visit  the 
tomb  of  Misticot,  with  the  purpose  of  taking  a  comic 
revenge  upon  him  for  his  quackery.  He  had  easily  per- 
suaded Steenie,  who  was  a  bold  thoughtless  young  fel- 
low, to  engage  in  the  froHc  along  with  him,  and  the  jest 
had  been  inadvertently  carried  a  great  deal  farther  than 
was  designed.  Concerning  the  pocket-book,  he  explained 

90 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


that  he  had  expressed  his  surprise  and  sorrow  as  soon  as 
he  found  it  had  been  inadvertently  brought  off;  and  that 
publicly,  before  all  the  inmates  of  the  cottage,  Steenie 
had  undertaken  to  return  it  the  next  day,  and  had  only 
been  prevented  by  his  untimely  fate. 

The  Antiquary  pondered  a  moment,  and  then  said, 
*  Your  account  seems  very  probable,  Edie,  and  I  believe 
it  from  what  I  know  of  the  parties;  but  I  think  it  Ukely 
that  you  know  a  great  deal  more  than  you  have  thought 
it  proper  to  tell  me  about  this  matter  of  the  treasure- 
trove.  I  suspect  you  have  acted  the  part  of  the  Lar  Fa- 
miliaris  in  Plautus  —  a  sort  of  brownie,  Edie,  to  speak 
to  your  comprehension,  who  watched  over  hidden  treas- 
ures. I  do  bethink  me  you  were  the  first  person  we  met 
when  Sir  Arthur  made  his  successful  attack  upon  Misti- 
cot's  grave,  and  also  that,  when  the  labourers  began  to 
flag,  you,  Edie,  were  again  the  first  to  leap  into  the 
trench  and  to  make  the  discovery  of  the  treasure.  Now 
you  must  explain  all  this  to  me,  unless  you  would  have 
me  use  you  as  ill  as  Euclio  does  Staphyla  in  the  Aulu- 
laria.^ 

'Lordsake,  sir,'  replied  the  mendicant,  'what  do  I  ken 
about  your  Howlowlaria?  it's  mair  like  a  dog's  language 
than  a  man's.' 

'You  knew,  however,  of  the  box  of  treasure  being 
there? '  continued  Oldbuck. 

'Dear  sir,'  answered  Edie,  assuming  a  countenance  of 
great  simplicity,  'what  likelihood  is  there  o'  that?  D'ye 
think  sae  puir  an  auld  creature  as  me  wad  hae  kend  o' 
sic  a  like  thing  without  getting  some  gude  out  o't?  And 
ye  wot  weel  I  sought  nane  and  gat  nane,  hke  Michael 
Scott's  man.  What  concern  could  I  hae  wi't?' 


91 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


*  That's  just  what  I  want  you  to  explain  to  me/  said 
Oldbuck;  'for  I  am  positive  you  knew  it  was  there.' 

^Your  honour's  a  positive  man,  Monkbarns;  and,  for 
a  positive  man,  I  must  needs  allow  ye 're  often  in  the 
right.' 

'  You  allow  then,  Edie,  that  my  belief  is  well  founded?  * 
Edie  nodded  acquiescence. 

*Then  please  to  explain  to  me  the  whole  afifair  from 
beginning  to  end,'  said  the  Antiquary. 

^If  it  were  a  secret  o'  mine,  Monkbarns,'  replied  the 
beggar,  ^ye  suldna  ask  twice;  for  I  hae  aye  said  ahint 
your  back  that,  for  a'  the  nonsense  maggots  that  ye 
whiles  take  into  your  head,  ye  are  the  maist  wise  and  dis- 
creet o'  a'  our  country  gentles.  But  I'se  e'en  be  open- 
hearted  wi'  you  and  tell  you  that  this  is  a  friend's  secret, 
and  that  they  suld  draw  me  wi'  wild  horses,  or  saw  me 
asunder,  as  they  did  the  children  of  Ammon,  sooner  than 
I  would  speak  a  word  mair  about  the  matter,  excepting 
this,  that  there  was  nae  ill  intended,  but  muckle  gude, 
and  that  the  purpose  was  to  serve  them  that  are  worth 
twenty  hundred  o'  me.  But  there's  nae  law,  I  trow,  that 
makes  it  a  sin  to  ken  where  ither  folks'  siller  is,  if  we 
dinna  pit  hand  till't  oursell?' 

Oldbuck  walked  once  or  twice  up  and  down  the  room 
in  profound  thought,  endeavouring  to  find  some  plaus- 
ible reason  for  transactions  of  a  nature  so  mysterious, 
but  his  ingenuity  was  totally  at  fault.  He  then  placed 
himself  before  the  prisoner. 

^This  story  of  yours,  friend  Edie,  is  an  absolute 
enigma,  and  would  require  a  second  CEdipus  to  solve  it. 
Who  CEdipus  was  I  will  tell  you  some  other  time,  if  you 
remind  me.  However,  whether  it  be  owing  to  the  wis- 


92 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

dom  or  to  the  maggots  with  which  you  compliment  me, 
I  am  strongly  disposed  to  believe  that  you  have  spoken 
the  truth,  the  rather  that  you  have  not  made  any  of 
those  obtestations  of  the  superior  powers  which  I  ob- 
serve you  and  your  comrades  always  make  use  of 
when  you  mean  to  deceive  folks.  (Here  Edie  could  not 
suppress  a  smile.)  If,  therefore,  you  will  answer  me  one 
question,  I  will  endeavour  to  procure  your  liberation.' 

^If  ye'U  let  me  hear  the  question,'  said  Edie,  with  the 
caution  of  a  canny  Scotchman,  *  I  '11  tell  you  whether  I  '11 
answer  it  or  no.' 

'It  is  simply,'  said  the  Antiquary,  'Did  Dousterswivel 
know  anything  about  the  concealment  of  the  chest  of 
bulHon?' 

'He,  the  ill-fa' ard  loon!'  answered  Edie,  with  much 
frankness  of  manner, '  there  wad  hae  been  Httle  speerings 
o't  had  Dustansnivel  kend  it  was  there;  it  wad  hae  been 
butter  in  the  black  dog's  hause.' 

'I  thought  as  much,'  said  Oldbuck.  'Well,  Edie,  if  I 
procure  your  freedom,  you  must  keep  your  day  and 
appear  to  clear  me  of  the  bail-bond,  for  these  are  not 
times  for  prudent  men  to  incur  forfeitures,  unless  you 
can  point  out  another  aulam  auri  plenam  quadrilibrem 
—  another  "  Search  No.  I." ' 

'Ah!'  said  the  beggar,  shaking  his  head,  'I  doubt 
the  bird's  flown  that  laid  thae  golden  eggs;  for  I  winna 
ca'  her  goose,  though  that's  the  gait  it  stands  in  the 
story-buick.  But  I'll  keep  my  day,  Monkbarns;  ye'se 
no  loss  a  penny  by  me.  And  troth  I  wad  fain  be  out 
again,  now  the  weather 's  fine;  and  then  I  hae  the  best 
chance  o'  hearing  the  first  news  o'  my  friends.' 

'Well,  Edie,  as  the  bouncing  and  thumping  beneath 

93 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


has  somewhat  ceased,  I  presume  Bailie  Littlejohn  has 
dismissed  his  military  preceptor,  and  has  retired  from 
the  labours  of  Mars  to  those  of  Themis:  I  will  have  some 
conversation  with  him.  But  I  cannot  and  will  not  be- 
heve  any  of  those  wretched  news  you  were  telKng  me.' 

^  God  send  your  honour  may  be  right ! '  said  the  mendi- 
cant, as  Oldbuck  left  the  room. 

The  Antiquary  found  the  magistrate,  exhausted  with 
the  fatigues  of  the  drill,  reposing  in  his  gouty  chair, 
humming  the  air, '  How  merrily  we  live  that  soldiers  be ! ' 
and  between  each  bar  comforting  himself  with  a  spoon- 
ful of  mock-turtle  soup.  He  ordered  a  similar  refresh- 
ment for  Oldbuck,  who  declined  it,  observing  that,  not 
being  a  military  man,  he  did  not  feel  incUned  to  break 
his  habit  of  keeping  regular  hours  for  meals.  ^Soldiers 
like  you,  Bailie,  must  snatch  their  food  as  they  find 
means  and  time.  But  I  am  sorry  to  hear  ill  news  of 
young  Taffril's  brig.' 

'Ah,  poor  fellow!'  said  the  Bailie,  'he  was  a  credit  to 
the  town,  much  distinguished  on  the  first  of  June.' 

'But,'  said  Oldbuck,  'I  am  shocked  to  hear  you  talk 
of  him  in  the  preterite  tense.' 

'Troth,  I  fear  there  may  be  too  much  reason  for  it, 
Monkbarns;  and  yet  let  us  hope  the  best.  The  accident 
is  said  to  have  happened  in  the  Rattray  reef  of  rocks, 
about  twenty  miles  to  the  northward,  near  Dirtenalan 
Bay.  I  have  sent  to  inquire  about  it;  and  your  nephew 
run  out  himself  as  if  he  had  been  flying  to  get  the 
gazette  of  a  victory.' 

Here  Hector  entered,  exclaiming  as  he  came  in,  'I  be- 
lieve it 's  all  a  damned  he ;  I  can't  find  the  least  authority 
for  it  but  general  rumour.' 

94 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


^  And  pray,  Mr.  Hector/  said  his  uncle,  'if  it  had  been 
true,  whose  fault  would  it  have  been  that  Lovel  was  on 
board? ' 

^Not  mine,  I  am  sure,'  answered  Hector;  'it  would 
have  been  only  my  misfortune.' 

'  Indeed ! '  said  his  uncle ; '  I  should  not  have  thought  of 
that.' 

'Why,  sir,  with  all  your  inclination  to  find  me  in  the 
wrong,'  replied  the  young  soldier,  'I  suppose  you  will 
own  my  intention  was  not  to  blame  in  this  case.  I  did 
my  best  to  hit  Lovel,  and  if  I  had  been  successful,  't  is 
clear  my  scrape  would  have  been  his  and  his  scrape 
would  have  been  mine.' 

'And  whom  or  what  do  you  intend  to  hit  now,  that 
you  are  lugging  with  you  that  leathern  magazine  there, 
marked  '^gunpowder"?' 

'  I  must  be  prepared  for  Lord  Glenallan's  moors  on  the 
twelfth,  sir,'  said  MTntyre. 

'Ah,  Hector!  thy  great  chasse,  as  the  French  call  it, 
would  take  place  best  — 

Omne  cum  Proteus  pecus  egit  altos 
Visere  montes. 

Could  you  meet  but  with  a  martial  phoca,  instead  of  an 
imwarlike  heath-bird.' 

'The  devil  take  the  seal,  sir,  or  phoca,  if  you  choose  to 
call  it  so;  it's  rather  hard  one  can  never  hear  the  end  of 
a  little  piece  of  folly  Uke  that.' 

'Well,  well,'  said  Oldbuck,  'I  am  glad  you  have  the 
grace  to  be  ashamed  of  it.  As  I  detest  the  whole  race  of 
Nimrods,  I  wish  them  all  as  well  matched.  Nay,  never 
start  off  at  a  jest,  man;  I  have  done  with  the  phoca^ 

95 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


though  I  daresay  the  Bailie  could  tell  us  the  value  of 
sealskins  just  now.' 

'They  are  up,'  said  the  magistrate,  Hhey  are  well 
up;  the  fishing  has  been  unsuccessful  lately/ 

'We  can  bear  witness  to  that,'  said  the  tormenting 
Antiquary,  who  was  delighted  with  the  hank  this  in- 
cident had  given  him  over  the  young  sportsman.  'One 
word  more,  Hector,  and 

We'll  hang  a  sealskin  on  thy  recreant  limbs. 

Aha,  my  boy!  Come,  never  mind  it,  I  must  go  to  busi- 
ness. Bailie,  a  word  with  you;  you  must  take  bail  — 
moderate  bail,  you  understand  —  for  old  Ochiltree's 
appearance.' 

'You  don't  consider  what  you  ask,' said  the  Bailie; 
*the  offence  is  assault  and  robbery.' 

'Hush!  not  a  word  about  it,'  said  the  Antiquary.  '  I 
gave  you  a  hint  before;  I  will  possess  you  more  fully 
hereafter;  I  promise  you  there  is  a  secret.' 

'But,  Mr.  Oldbuck,  if  the  state  is  concerned,  I,  who 
do  the  whole  drudgery  business  here,  really  have  a  title 
to  be  consulted  and  until  I  am  — ' 

'Hush!  hush!'  said  the  Antiquary,  winking  and  put- 
ting his  finger  to  his  nose;  'you  shall  have  the  full  credit, 
the  entire  management,  whenever  matters  are  ripe.  But 
this  is  an  obstinate  old  fellow,  who  will  not  hear  of  two 
people  being  as  yet  let  into  his  mystery,  and  he  has  not 
fully  acquainted  me  with  the  clue  to  Dousterswivel's 
devices.' 

'Aha!  so  we  must  tip  that  fellow  the  alien  act,  I  sup- 
pose?' 

'  To  say  truth,  I  wish  you  would.' 

96 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

'Say  no  more/  said  the  magistrate,  'it  shall  forthwith 
be  done;  he  shall  be  removed  tanquam  suspect  —  I  think 
that's  one  of  your  own  phrases,  Monkbarns?' 

'It  is  classical,  Baihe;  you  improve.' 

'Why,  public  business  has  of  late  pressed  upon  me  so 
much  that  I  have  been  obliged  to  take  my  foreman  into 
partnership.  I  have  had  two  several  correspondences 
with  the  Under  Secretary  of  State  —  one  on  the  pro- 
posed tax  on  Riga  hemp-seed  and  the  other  on  putting 
down  political  societies.  So  you  might  as  well  communi- 
cate to  me  as  much  as  you  know  of  this  old  fellow's  dis- 
covery of  a  plot  against  the  state.' 

'I  will  instantly  when  I  am  master  of  it,'  replied  Old- 
buck;  'I  hate  the  trouble  of  managing  such  matters  my- 
self. Remember,  however,  I  did  not  say  decidedly  a  plot 
against  the  state;  I  only  say,  I  hope  to  discover,  by  this 
man's  means,  a  foul  plot.' 

'If  it  be  a  plot  at  all,  there  must  be  treason  in  it,  or 
sedition  at  least,'  said  the  Bailie.  'Will  you  bail  him  for 
four  hundred  merks?' 

'Four  hundred  merks  for  an  old  Blue-Gown!  Think 
on  the  act  1701  regulating  bail-bonds!  Strike  off  a 
cipher  from  the  sum;  I  am  content  to  bail  him  for  forty 
merks.' 

'Well,  Mr.  Oldbuck,  everybody  in  Fairport  is  always 
willing  to  obUge  you;  and  besides,  I  know  that  you  are  a 
prudent  man,  and  one  that  would  be  as  unwilling  to  lose 
forty  as  four  hundred  merks.  So  I  will  accept  your  bail 
meo  periculo;  what  say  you  to  that  law  phrase  again?  I 
had  it  from  a  learned  counsel : "  I  will  vouch  it,  my  lord," 
he  said,  ^'meo  periculo  J' ^ 

'And  I  will  vouch  for  Edie  Ochiltree  meo  periculo,  in 
6  97 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


like  manner/  said  Oldbuck.  ^So  let  your  clerk  draw  out 
the  bail-bond  and  I  will  sign  it.' 

When  this  ceremony  had  been  performed,  the  Anti- 
quary communicated  to  Edie  the  joyful  tidings  that  he 
was  once  more  at  liberty,  and  directed  him  to  make  the 
best  of  his  way  to  Monkbarns  House,  to  which  he  him- 
self returned  with  his  nephew,  after  having  perfected 
their  good  work. 


CHAPTER  XXXIX 


Full  of  wise  saws  and  modern  instances. 

As  You  Like  It. 

*I  WISH  to  Heaven,  Hector/  said  the  Antiquary,  next 
morning  after  breakfast,  'you  would  spare  our  nerves, 
and  not  be  keeping  snapping  that  arquebuss  of  yours.' 

'Well,  sir,  I'm  sure  I'm  sorry  to  disturb  you,'  said  his 
nephew,  still  handling  his  fowUng-piece;  'but  it's  a  capi- 
tal gun:  it's  a  Joe  Manton,  that  cost  forty  guineas.' 

'A  fool  and  his  money  are  soon  parted,  nephew:  there 
is  a  Joe  Miller  for  your  Joe  Manton,'  answered  the  Anti- 
quary. 'I  am  glad  you  have  so  many  guineas  to  throw 
away.' 

'Every  one  has  their  fancy,  uncle:  you  are  fond  of 
books.' 

'  Ay,  Hector,'  said  the  uncle, '  and  if  my  collection  were 
yours,  you  would  make  it  fly  to  the  gunsmith,  the  horse- 
market,  the  dog-breaker:  coemptos  undique  nobiles  libros 
mutare  loricis  Iberis.^ 

'I  could  not  use  your  books,  my  dear  uncle,'  said  the 
young  soldier,  'that's  true;  and  you  will  do  well  to  pro- 
vide for  their  being  in  better  hands;  but  don't  let  the 
faults  of  my  head  fall  on  my  heart :  I  would  not  part  with 
a  Cordery  that  belonged  to  an  old  friend  to  get  a  set  of 
horses  like  Lord  Glenallan's.' 

'I  don't  think  you  would,  lad  —  I  don't  think  you 
would,'  said  his  softening  relative.  'I  love  to  tease  you  a 
little  sometimes;  it  keeps  up  the  spirit  of  discipline  and 

99 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


habit  of  subordination.  You  will  pass  your  time  happily 
here  having  me  to  command  you,  instead  of  captain,  or 
colonel,  or  "knight  in  arms,"  as  Milton  has  it;  and  in- 
stead of  the  French,'  he  continued,  relapsing  into  his 
ironical  humour,  'you  have  the  gens  humida  ponti;  for, 
as  Virgil  says, 

Sternunt  se  somno  diversae  in  littore  phocae, 

which  might  be  rendered, 

Here  phoccB  slumber  on  the  beach, 
Within  our  Highland  Hector's  reach. 

Nay,  if  you  grow  angry  I  have  done.  Besides,  I  see  old 
Edie  in  the  courtyard,  with  whom  I  have  business. 
Good-bye,  Hector.  Do  you  remember  how  she  splashed 
into  the  sea  like  her  master  Proteus,  et  se  jactu  dedit 
cequor  in  altum? ' 

M'Intyre  —  waiting,  however,  till  the  door  was  shut 
—  then  gave  way  to  the  natural  impatience  of  his 
temper. 

'  My  uncle  is  the  best  man  in  the  world,  and  in  his  way 
the  kindest;  but  rather  than  hear  any  more  about  that 
cursed  phoca^  as  he  is  pleased  to  call  it,  I  would  ex- 
change for  the  West  Indies  and  never  see  his  face  again.' 

Miss  M'Intyre,  gratefully  attached  to  her  uncle  and 
passionately  fond  of  her  brother,  was  on  such  occasions 
the  usual  envoy  of  reconciliation.  She  hastened  to  meet 
her  uncle  on  his  return  before  he  entered  the  parlour. 

'Well,  now.  Miss  Womankind,  what  is  the  meaning 
of  that  imploring  countenance?  Has  Juno  done  any 
more  mischief?' 

'No,  imcle;  but  Juno's  master  is  in  such  fear  of  your 

ICO 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

joking  him  about  the  seal.  I  assure  you,  he  feels  it  much 
more  than  you  would  wish;  it's  very  silly  of  him,  to  be 
sure;  but  then  you  can  turn  everybody  so  sharply  into 
ridicule  — ' 

'Well,  my  dear,'  answered  Oldbuck,  propitiated  by 
the  compliment, '  I  will  rein  in  my  satire,  and,  if  possible, 
speak  no  more  of  the  phoca;  I  will  not  even  speak  of 
sealing  a  letter,  but  say  "umph/'  and  give  a  nod  to  you 
when  I  want  the  wax-light.  I  am  not  monitorihus  asper, 
but.  Heaven  knows,  the  most  mild,  quiet,  and  easy  of 
human  beings,  whom  sister,  niece,  and  nephew  guide 
just  as  best  pleases  them.' 

With  this  little  panegyric  on  his  own  docility,  Mr.  Old- 
buck  entered  the  parlour,  and  proposed  to  his  nephew 
a  walk  to  the  Mussel  Crag.  '  I  have  some  questions  to 
ask  of  a  woman  at  Mucklebackit's  cottage,'  he  observed, 
'and  I  would  willingly  have  a  sensible  witness  with  me; 
so,  for  fault  of  a  better,  Hector,  I  must  be  contented 
with  you.' 

'There  is  old  Edie,  sir,  or  Caxon;  could  not  they  do 
better  than  me?'  answered  MTntyre,  feeling  somewhat 
alarmed  at  the  prospect  of  a  long  tete-a-tete  with  his 
uncle. 

'Upon  my  word,  young  man,  you  turn  me  over  to 
pretty  companions,  and  I  am  quite  sensible  of  your 
politeness,'  repUed  Mr.  Oldbuck.  'No,  sir,  I  intend  the 
old  Blue-Gown  shall  go  with  me,  not  as  a  competent  wit- 
ness, for  he  is  at  present,  as  our  friend  Bailie  Littlejohn 
says  —  blessings  on  his  learning!  —  tanquam  suspectus, 
and  you  are  suspicione  major,  as  our  law  has  it.' 

'I  wish  I  were  a  major,  sir,'  said  Hector,  catching  only 
the  last,  and,  to  a  soldier's  ear,  the  most  impressive  word 

lOI 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


in  the  sentence;  'but,  without  money  or  interest,  there 
is  little  chance  of  getting  the  step/ 

'Well,  well,  most  doughty  son  of  Priam,^  said  the 
Antiquary, '  be  ruled  by  your  friends,  and  there 's  no  say- 
ing what  may  happen.  Come  away  with  me,  and  you 
shall  see  what  may  be  useful  to  you  should  you  ever  sit 
upon  a  court-martial,  sir.' 

'I  have  been  on  many  a  regimental  court-martial,  sir,' 
answered  Captain  M'Intyre.  '  But  here 's  a  new  cane  for 
you.' 

'Much  obliged,  much  obliged.' 

'I  bought  it  from  our  drum-major,'  added  M'Intyre, 
'who  came  into  our  regiment  from  the  Bengal  army 
when  it  came  down  the  Red  Sea.  It  was  cut  on  the 
banks  of  the  Indus,  I  assure  you.' 

'  Upon  my  word,  't  is  a  fine  ratan,  and  well  replaces 
that  which  the  ph  —  Bah!  what  was  I  going  to  say?' 

The  party,  consisting  of  the  Antiquary,  his  nephew, 
and  the  old  beggar,  now  took  the  sands  towards  Mussel 
Crag  —  the  former  in  the  very  highest  mood  of  commun- 
icating information,  and  the  others,  under  a  sense  of 
former  obligation  and  some  hope  for  future  favours, 
decently  attentive  to  receive  it.  The  uncle  and  nephew 
walked  together,  the  mendicant  about  a  step  and  a  half 
behind,  just  near  enough  for  his  patron  to  speak  to  him 
by  a  slight  inclination  of  his  neck,  and  without  the 
trouble  of  turning  round.  Petrie,  in  his  essay  on  Good- 
breeding,  dedicated  to  the  magistrates  of  Edinburgh, 
recommends,  upon  his  own  experience  as  tutor  in  a  fam- 
ily of  distinction,  this  attitude  to  all  led  captains,  tutors, 
dependents,  and  bottle-holders  of  every  description. 
Thus  escorted,  the  Antiquary  moved  along  full  of  his 

I02 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

learning,  like  a  lordly  man  of  war,  and  every  now  and 
then  yawing  to  starboard  and  larboard  to  discharge  a 
broadside  upon  his  followers. 

*  And  so  it  is  your  opinion,'  said  he  to  the  mendicant, 
*  that  this  windfall  —  this  area  auri,  as  Plautus  has  it  — 
will  not  greatly  avail  Sir  Arthur  in  his  necessities? ' 

*  Unless  he  could  find  ten  times  as  much,'  said  the  beg- 
gar, ^and  that  I  am  sair  doubtful  of.  I  heard  Puggie  Or- 
rock  and  the  tother  thief  of  a  sheriff-officer  or  messenger 
speaking  about  it,  and  things  are  ill  aff  when  the  Hke  o' 
them  can  speak  crousely  about  ony  gentleman's  affairs. 
I  doubt  Sir  Arthur  will  be  in  stane  wa's  for  debt  unless 
there's  swift  help  and  certain.' 

^  You  speak  like  a  fool,'  said  the  Antiquary.  ^  Nephew, 
it  is  a  remarkable  thing  that  in  this  happy  country  no 
man  can  be  legally  imprisoned  for  debt.' 

'Indeed,  sir?'  said  M'Intyre.  'I  never  knew  that  be- 
fore; that  part  of  our  law  would  suit  some  of  our  mess 
well.' 

'And  if  they  arena  confined  for  debt,'  said  Ochiltree, 
'what  is't  that  tempts  sae  mony  puir  creatures  to  bide 
in  the  tolbooth  o'  Fairport  yonder?  They  a'  say  they 
were  put  there  by  their  creditors.  Od!  they  maun  like 
it  better  than  I  do  if  they're  there  o'  free  will.' 

'A  very  natural  observation,  Edie,  and  many  of  your 
betters  would  make  the  same;  but  it  is  founded  entirely 
upon  ignorance  of  the  feudal  system.  Hector,  be  so  good 
as  to  attend,  unless  you  are  looking  out  for  another  — 
Ahem!  (Hector  compelled  himself  to  give  attention  at 
this  hint.)  And  you,  Edie,  it  may  be  useful  to  you,  rerum 
cognoscere  causas.  The  nature  and  origin  of  warrant  for 
caption  is  a  thing  haud  alienum  a  Sccevolce  studiis.  You 

103 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


must  know  then,  once  more,  that  nobody  can  be  arrested 
in  Scotland  for  debt.' 

*I  haena  muckle  concern  wi'  that,  Monkbarns,'  said 
the  old  man,  *  for  naebody  wad  trust  a  bodle  to  a  gaber- 
lunzie.' 

*I  pr'ythee  peace,  man.  As  a  compulsitor,  therefore, 
of  payment  —  that  being  a  thing  to  which  no  debtor  is 
naturally  inclined,  as  I  have  too  much  reason  to  warrant 
from  the  experience  I  have  had  with  my  own  —  we  had 
first  the  letters  of  four  forms,  a  sort  of  gentle  invitation, 
by  which  our  sovereign  lord  the  king,  interesting  him- 
self, as  a  monarch  should,  in  the  regulation  of  his  sub- 
jects' private  affairs,  at  first  by  mild  exhortation  and 
afterwards  by  letters  of  more  strict  enjoinment  and 
more  hard  compulsion  —  What  do  you  see  extraordin- 
ary about  that  bird.  Hector?  it's  but  a  sea-maw.' 

^ It's  a  pictarnie,  sir,'  said  Edie. 

^  Well,  what  an  if  it  were  —  what  does  that  signify  at 
present?  But  I  see  you're  impatient;  so  I  will  waive  the 
letters  of  four  forms,  and  come  to  the  modern  process 
of  diligence.  You  suppose,  now,  a  man's  committed  to 
prison  because  he  cannot  pay  his  debt?  Quite  otherwise; 
the  truth  is,  the  king  is  so  good  as  to  interfere  at  the 
request  of  the  creditor,  and  to  send  the  debtor  his  royal 
command  to  do  him  justice  within  a  certain  time — 
fifteen  days,  or  six,  as  the  case  may  be.  Well,  the  man 
resists  and  disobeys;  what  follows?  Why,  that  he  be 
lawfully  and  rightfully  declared  a  rebel  to  our  gracious 
sovereign,  whose  command  he  has  disobeyed,  and  that 
by  three  blasts  of  a  horn  at  the  market-place  of  Edin- 
burgh, the  metropolis  of  Scotland.  And  he  is  then 
legally  imprisoned,  not  on  account  of  any  civil  debt,  but 

104 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

because  of  his  ungrateful  contempt  of  the  royal  man- 
date. What  say  you  to  that,  Hector?  there's  something 
you  never  knew  before.'^ 

*No,  uncle;  but  I  own,  if  I  wanted  money  to  pay  my 
debts,  I  would  rather  thank  the  king  to  send  me  some 
than  to  declare  me  a  rebel  for  not  doing  what  I  could  not 
do.' 

^Your  education  has  not  led  you  to  consider  these 
things,'  replied  his  uncle;  ^you  are  incapable  of  estimat- 
ing the  elegance  of  the  legal  fiction,  and  the  manner  in 
which  it  reconciles  that  duress  which,  for  the  protection 
of  commerce,  it  has  been  found  necessary  to  extend  to- 
wards refractory  debtors  with  the  most  scrupulous  at- 
tention to  the  liberty  of  the  subject.' 

don't  know,  sir,'  answered  the  unenlightened  Hec- 
tor ;  ^  but  if  a  man  must  pay  his  debt  or  go  to  jail,  it  signi- 
fies but  Httle  whether  he  goes  as  a  debtor  or  a  rebel,  I 
should  think.  But  you  say  this  command  of  the  king's 
gives  a  license  of  so  many  days;  now,  egad,  were  I  in  the 
scrape,  I  would  beat  a  march  and  leave  the  king  and  the 
creditor  to  settle  it  among  themselves  before  they  came 
to  extremities.' 

^So  wad  I,'  said  Edie;  'I  wad  gie  them  leg-bail  to  a 
certainty/ 

'True,'  replied  Monkbarns;  *but  those  whom  the  law 
suspects  of  being  unwilling  to  abide  her  formal  visit,  she 
proceeds  with  by  means  of  a  shorter  and  more  uncere- 
monious call,  as  dealing  with  persons  on  whom  patience 
and  favour  would  be  utterly  thrown  away.' 

'Ay,'  said  Ochiltree,  'that  will  be  what  they  ca'  the 
*'fugie"  warrants;  I  hae  some  skeel  in  them.  There's 
1  See  Note  i. 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Border  warrants  too  in  the  south  country,  unco  rash  un- 
canny things.  I  was  taen  up  on  ane  at  Saint  James's 
Fair,  and  keepit  in  the  auld  kirk  at  Kelso  the  haill  day 
and  night;  and  a  cauld  goustie  place  it  was,  I'se  assure 
ye.  But  whatna  wife's  this,  wi'  her  creel  on  her  back? 
It's  puir  Maggie  hersell,  I'm  thinking.' 

It  was  so.  The  poor  woman's  sense  of  her  loss,  if  not 
diminished,  was  become  at  least  mitigated  by  the  inev- 
itable necessity  of  attending  to  the  means  of  supporting 
her  family;  and  her  salutation  to  Oldbuck  was  made  in 
an  odd  mixture  between  the  usual  language  of  solicita- 
tion with  which  she  plied  her  customers  and  the  tone  of 
lamentation  for  her  recent  calamity. 

*  How's  a'  wi'  ye  the  day,  Monkbarns?  I  havena  had 
the  grace  yet  to  come  down  to  thank  your  honour  for  the 
credit  ye  did  puir  Steenie,  wi'  laying  his  head  in  a  rath 
grave,  puir  fallow.'  Here  she  whimpered  and  wiped  her 
eyes  with  the  corner  of  her  blue  apron.  *  But  the  fishing 
comes  on  no  that  ill,  though  the  gudeman  hasna  had  the 
heart  to  gang  to  sea  himsell.  Atweel  I  wad  fain  tell  him 
it  wad  do  him  gude  to  put  hand  to  wark,  but  I'm  maist 
fear'd  to  speak  to  him,  and  it's  an  unco  thing  to  hear  ane 
o'  us  speak  that  gate  o'  a  man.  However,  I  hae  some 
dainty  caller  baddies,  and  they  sail  be  but  three  shillings 
the  dozen,  for  I  hae  nae  pith  to  drive  a  bargain  e'ennow, 
and  maun  just  take  what  ony  Christian  body  will  gie, 
wi'  few  words  and  nae  flyting.' 

*What  shall  we  do,  Hector?'  said  Oldbuck,  pausing; 
*I  got  into  disgrace  with  my  womankind  for  making  a 
bad  bargain  with  her  before.  These  maritime  animals, 
Hector,  are  unlucky  to  our  family.' 

*Pooh,  sir,  what  would  you  do?  Give  poor  Maggie 
1 06 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


what  she  asks,  or  allow  me  to  send  a  dish  of  fish  up  to 
Monkbarns.' 

And  he  held  out  the  money  to  her;  but  Maggie  drew 
back  her  hand.  ^  Na,  na,  Captain ;  ye  're  ower  young  and 
ower  free  o'  your  siller.  Ye  should  never  tak  a  fish- wife's 
first  bode;  and  troth  I  think  maybe  a  flyte  wi'  the  auld 
housekeeper  at  Monkbarns  or  Miss  Grizel  would  do  me 
some  gude.  And  I  want  to  see  what  that  hellicate  quean 
Jenny  Rintherout's  doing;  folk  said  she  wasna  weel. 
She'll  be  vexing  herself  about  Steenie,  the  silly  tawpie, 
as  if  he  wad  ever  hae  lookit  o  wer  his  shouther  at  the  hke 
o'  her!  Weel,  Monkbarns,  they're  braw  caller  haddies, 
and  they'll  bid  me  unco  little  indeed  at  the  house  if  ye 
want  crappit-heads  the  day.' 

And  so  on  she  paced  with  her  burden  —  grief,  grati- 
tude for  the  sympathy  of  her  betters,  and  the  habitual 
love  of  traffic  and  of  gain  chasing  each  other  through  her 
thoughts. 

*  And  now  that  we  are  before  the  door  of  their  hut,'  said 
Ochiltree,  ^  I  wad  fain  ken ,  Monkbarns,  what  has  gar 'd  ye 
plague  yoursell  wi'  me  a'  this  length?  I  tell  ye  sincerely 
I  hae  nae  pleasure  in  ganging  in  there.  I  downa  bide  to 
think  how  the  young  hae  f a'en  on  a'  sides  o'  me,  and  left 
me  an  useless  auld  stump  wi'  hardly  a  green  leaf  on't.' 

*This  old  woman,'  said  Oldbuck,  ^sent  you  on  a  mes- 
sage to  the  Earl  of  Glenallan,  did  she  not?' 

'Ay!'  said  the  surprised  mendicant;  *how  ken  ye  that 
sae  weel? ' 

'Lord  Glenallan  told  me  himself,'  answered  the  Anti- 
quary; 'so  there  is  no  delation  —  no  breach  of  trust  on 
your  part,  and  as  he  wishes  me  to  take  her  evidence 
down  on  some  important  family  matters,  I  chose  to 

107 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


bring  you  with  me,  because  in  her  situation,  hovering  be- 
tween dotage  and  consciousness,  it  is  possible  that  your 
voice  and  appearance  may  awaken  trains  of  recollection 
which  I  should  otherwise  have  no  means  of  exciting. 
The  human  mind  —  What  are  you  about,  Hector? ' 

'I  was  only  whistling  for  the  dog,  sir,'  rephed  the 
Captain;  ^she  always  roves  too  wide.  I  knew  I  should 
be  troublesome  to  you/ 

^Not  at  all,  not  at  all,'  said  Oldbuck,  resuming  the 
subject  of  his  disquisition.  'The  human  mind  is  to  be 
treated  Hke  a  skein  of  ravelled  silk,  where  you  must 
cautiously  secure  one  free  end  before  you  can  make  any 
progress  in  disentangling  it.' 

'I  ken  naething  about  that,'  said  the  gaberlunzie; 
'but  an  my  auld  acquaintance  be  hersell,  or  ony  thing 
like  hersell,  she  may  come  to  wind  us  a  pirn.  It's  fear- 
some baith  to  see  and  hear  her  when  she  wampishes 
about  her  arms,  and  gets  to  her  English,  and  speaks  as 
if  she  were  a  prent  book,  let  a-be  an  auld  fisher's  wife. 
But,  indeed,  she  had  a  grand  education,  and  was  muckle 
taen  out  afore  she  married  an  unco  bit  beneath  hersell. 
She's  aulder  than  me  by  half  a  score  years;  but  I  mind 
weel  eneugh  they  made  as  muckle  wark  about  her  mak- 
ing a  half-merk  marriage  wi'  Simon  Mucklebackit,  this 
Saunders's  father,  as  if  she  had  been  ane  o'  the  gentry. 
But  she  got  into  favour  again,  and  then  she  lost  it  again, 
as  I  hae  heard  her  son  say,  when  he  was  a  muckle  chield; 
and  then  they  got  muckle  siller,  and  left  the  Countess's 
land  and  settled  here.  But  things  never  throve  wi' 
them.  Howsomever,  she's  a  weel-educate  woman,  and 
an  she  win  to  her  English,  as  I  hae  heard  her  do  at  an 
orra  time,  she  may  come  to  fickle  us  a'.' 


CHAPTER  XL 


Life  ebbs  from  such  old  age,  unmark'd  and  silent, 
As  the  slow  neap-tide  leaves  yon  stranded  galley. 
Late  she  rock'd  merrily  at  the  least  impulse 
That  wind  or  wave  could  give;  but  now  her  keel 
Is  settling  on  the  sand,  her  mast  has  ta'en 
An  angle  with  the  sky,  from  which  it  shifts  not. 
Each  wave  receding  shakes  her  less  and  less, 
Till,  bedded  on  the  strand  she  shall  remain 
Useless  as  motionless. 

Old  Play. 

As  the  Antiquary  lifted  the  latch  of  the  hut,  he  was  sur- 
prised to  hear  the  shrill,  tremulous  voice  of  Elspeth 
chanting  forth  an  old  ballad  in  a  wild  and  doleful  reci- 
tative. 

'The  herring  loves  the  merry  moonlight, 
The  mackerel  loves  the  wind, 
But  the  oyster  loves  the  dredging  sang, 
For  they  come  of  a  gentle  kind.' 

A  diligent  collector  of  these  legendary  scraps  of  an- 
cient poetry,  his  foot  refused  to  cross  the  threshold  when 
his  ear  was  thus  arrested,  and  his  hand  instinctively 
took  pencil  and  memorandum-book.  From  time  to  time 
the  old  woman  spoke  as  if  to  the  children:  *0  ay,hinnies, 
whisht,  whisht !  and  I  '11  begin  a  bonnier  ane  than  that :  — 

Now  hand  your  tongue,  baith  wife  and  carle, 

And  listen,  great  and  sma', 
And  I  will  sing  of  Glenallan^s  Earl 

That  fought  on  the  red  Harlaw. 

The  cronach's  cried  on  Bennachie, 

And  doun  the  Don  an  a' 
And  hieland  and  lawland  may  mournfu'  be 

For  the  sair  field  of  Harlaw. 

109 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


I  dinna  mind  the  neist  verse  weel;  my  memory's  failed, 
and  there's  unco  thoughts  come  ower  me.  God  keep  us 
frae  temptation!' 

Here  her  voice  sunk  in  indistinct  muttering. 

*It's  a  historical  ballad/  said  Oldbuck,  eagerly,  'a 
genuine  and.  undoubted  fragment  of  minstrelsy!  Percy 
would  admire  its  simpUcity;  Ritson  could  not  impugn 
its  authenticity.' 

'Ay,  but  it's  a  sad  thing,'  said  Ochiltree,  ^to  see 
human  nature  sae  far  owertaen  as  to  be  skirhng  at  auld 
sangs  on  the  back  of  a  loss  like  hers.' 

'Hush,  hush!'  said  the  Antiquary;  'she  has  gotten  the 
thread  of  the  story  again';  and  as  he  spoke  she  sung: — 

'They  saddled  a  hundred  milk-white  steeds, 

They  hae  bridled  a  hundred  black, 
With  a  chafron  of  steel  on  each  horse's  head, 
And  a  good  knight  upon  his  back.' 

*  Chafron!'  exclaimed  the  Antiquary,  ^equivalent, 
perhaps,  to  cheveron;  the  word's  worth  a  dollar';  and 
down  it  went  in  his  red  book. 

'They  hadna  ridden  a  mile,  a  mile, 

A  mile,  but  barely  ten, 
When  Donald  came  branking  down  the  brae 
Wi'  twenty  thousand  men. 

Their  tartans  they  were  waving  wide, 

Their  glaives  were  glancing  clear, 
The  pibrochs  rung  frae  side  to  side, 

Would  deafen  ye  to  hear. 

The  great  Earl  in  his  stirrups  stood 

That  Highland  host  to  see: 
*^Now  here  a  knight  that's  stout  and  good 
May  prove  a  jeopardie. 


no 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


"What  wouldst  thou  do,  my  squire  so  gay, 
That  rides  beside  my  reyne 
Were  3'^e  Glenallan's  Earl  the  day, 
And  I  were  Roland  Cheyne? 

"To  turn  the  rein  were  sin  and  shame, 
To  fight  were  wondrous  peril, 
What  would  ye  do  now,  Roland  Cheyne, 
Were  ye  Glenallan^s  Earl?" 

Ye  maun  ken,  hinnies,  that  this  Roland  Cheyne,  for  as 
poor  and  auld  as  I  sit  in  the  chimney-neuk,  was  my 
forebear,  and  an  awfu'  man  he  was  that  day  in  the  fight, 
but  specially  after  the  Earl  had  fa'en;  for  he  blamed 
himsell  for  the  counsel  he  gave,  to  fight  before  Mar 
came  up  wi'  Mearns  and  Aberdeen  and  Angus.' 

Her  voice  rose  and  became  more  animated  as  she  re- 
cited the  warlike  counsel  of  her  ancestor: — 

'"Were  I  Glenallan's  Earl  this  tide. 
And  ye  were  Roland  Cheyne, 
The  spur  should  be  in  my  horse's  side, 
And  the  bridle  upon  his  mane. 

"If  they  hae  twenty  thousand  blades. 

And  we  tw^ice  ten  times  ten. 
Yet  they  hae  but  their  tartan  plaids. 
And  we  are  mail-clad  men. 

"My  horse  shall  ride  through  ranks  sae  rude 

As  through  the  moorland  fern. 
Then  ne'er  let  the  gentle  Norman  blude 
Grow  cauld  for  Highland  kerne."  ' 

*Do  you  hear  that,  nephew?'  said  Oldbuck;  'you  ob- 
serve your  Gaelic  ancestors  were  not  held  in  high  repute 
formerly  by  the  Lowland  warriors.' 

*I  hear/  said  Hector,  'a  silly  old  woman  sing  a,  silly 
III 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


old  song.  I  am  surprised,  sir,  that  you,  who  will  not 
listen  to  Ossian's  Songs  of  Selma,"  can  be  pleased  with 
such  trash.  I  vow,  I  have  not  seen  or  heard  a  worse  half- 
penny ballad;  I  don't  believe  you  could  match  it  in  any 
pedlar's  pack  in  the  country.  I  should  be  ashamed  to 
think  that  the  honour  of  the  Highlands  could  be  affected 
by  such  doggrel.'  And,  tossing  up  his  head,  he  snuffed 
the  air  indignantly. 

Apparently  the  old  woman  heard  the  sound  of  their 
voices;  for,  ceasing  her  song,  she  called  out,  ^Come  in, 
sirs,  come  in;  good- will  never  halted  at  the  door-stane.' 

They  entered,  and  found  to  their  surprise  Elspeth 
alone,  sitting  ^ghastly  on  the  hearth,'  like  the  per- 
sonification of  Old  Age  in  the  ^  Hunter's  Song  of  the 
Owl,'^  ^wrinkled,  tattered,  vile,  dim-eyed,  discoloured, 
torpid.' 

^They're  a'  out,'  she  said,  as  they  entered;  ^but,  an  ye 
will  sit  a  blink,  somebody  will  be  in.  If  ye  hae  business 
wi'  my  gude-daughter  or  my  son,  they'll  be  in  belyve: 
I  never  speak  on  business  mysell.  Bairns,  gie  them  seats. 
The  bairns  are  a'  gane  out,  I  trow  (looking  around  her). 
I  was  crooning  to  keep  them  quiet  a  wee  while  since;  but 
they  hae  cruppin  out  some  gate.  Sit  down,  sirs,  they'll 
be  in  belyve';  and  she  dismissed  her  spindle  from  her 
hand  to  twirl  upon  the  floor,  and  soon  seemed  exclusively 
occupied  in  regulating  its  motion,  as  unconscious  of  the 
presence  of  the  strangers  as  she  appeared  indifferent  to 
their  rank  or  business  there. 

wish,'  said  Oldbuck,  'she  would  resume  that  cant- 
icle or  legendary  fragment:  I  always  suspected  there  was 

*  See  Mrs.  Grant  on  the  Highland  Superstitions y  vol.  ii.,  p.  260,  for 
this  fine  translation  from  the  Gaelic. 

112 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


a  skirmish  of  cavalry  before  the  main  battle  of  the 
Harlaw.'i 

^If  your  honour  pleases/  said  Edie,  ^had  ye  not  better 
proceed  to  the  business  that  brought  us  a'  here?  I'se 
engage  to  get  ye  the  sang  ony  time.' 

'I  believe  you  are  right,  Edie.  Do  manus  —  I  sub- 
mit. But  how  shall  we  manage?  She  sits  there,  the  very 
image  of  dotage.  Speak  to  her,  Edie ;  try  if  you  can  make 
her  recollect  having  sent  you  to  Glenallan  House.' 

Edie  rose  accordingly,  and,  crossing  the  floor,  placed 
himself  in  the  same  position  which  he  had  occupied  dur- 
ing his  former  conversation  with  her.  ^  I 'm  fain  to  see  ye 
looking  sae  weel,  cummer;  the  mair,  that  the  black  ox 
has  tramped  on  ye  since  I  was  aneath  your  roof-tree.' 

^Ay,'  said  Elspeth,  but  rather  from  a  general  idea  of 
misfortune  than  any  exact  recollection  of  what  had  hap- 
pened, '  there  has  been  distress  amang  us  of  late.  I  won- 
der how  younger  folk  bide  it;  I  bide  it  ill.  I  canna  hear 
the  wind  whistle  and  the  sea  roar,  but  I  think  I  see  the 
coble  whombled  keel  up,  and  some  o'  them  struggling  in 
the  waves!  Eh,  sirs,  sic  weary  dreams  as  folk  hae  be- 
tween sleeping  and  waking,  before  they  win  to  the  lang 
sleep  and  the  sound!  I  could  amaist  think  whiles  my 
son,  or  else  Steenie,  my  oe,  was  dead,  and  that  I  had 
seen  the  burial.  Isna  that  a  queer  dream  for  a  daft  auld 
carline?  What  for  should  ony  o'  them  dee  before  me? 
It's  out  o'  the  course  o'  nature,  ye  ken.' 

*I  think  you'll  make  very  little  of  this  stupid  old 
woman,'  said  Hector,  who  still  nourished,  perhaps,  some 
feelings  of  the  dislike  excited  by  the  disparaging  mention 
of  his  countrymen  in  her  lay.  ^I  think  you'll  make  but 
*  See  Note  2. 

6  113 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


little  of  her,  sir;  and  it's  wasting  our  time  to  sit  here 
and  listen  to  her  dotage.' 

'Hector/  said  the  Antiquary,  indignantly,  'if  you  do 
not  respect  her  misfortunes,  respect  at  least  her  old  age 
and  grey  hairs.  This  is  the  last  stage  of  existence,  so 
finely  treated  by  the  Latin  poet:  — 

Omni 

Membrorum  damno  major  dementia,  quae  nec 
Nomina  servorum,  nec  vultus  agnoscit  amici, 
Cum  queis  preterita  coenavit  nocte,  nec  illos 
Quos  genuit,  quos  eduxit.' 

'That's  Latin!'  said  Elspeth,  rousing  herself  as  if  she 
attended  to  the  lines  which  the  Antiquary  recited  with 
great  pomp  of  diction,  'that's  Latin!'  and  she  cast  a 
wild  glance  around  her.  'Has  there  a  priest  fund  me  out 
at  last?' 

'You  see,  nephew,  her  comprehension  is  almost  equal 
to  your  own  of  that  fine  passage.' 

'I  hope  you  think,  sir,  that  I  knew  it  to  be  Latin  as 
well  as  she  did? ' 

'Why,  as  to  that  —  But  stay,  she  is  about  to  speak.' 

'I  will  have  no  priest,  none,'  said  the  beldam,  with 
impotent  vehemence;  'as  I  have  lived  I  will  die:  none 
shall  say  that  I  betrayed  my  mistress,  though  it  were  to 
save  my  soul!' 

'That  bespoke  a  foul  conscience,'  said  the  mendicant; 
'I  wuss  she  wad  mak  a  clean  breast,  an  it  were  but  for 
her  ain  sake,'  and  he  again  assailed  her. 

'Weel,  gudewife,  I  did  your  errand  to  the  Yerl.' 

'To  what  Earl?  I  ken  nae  Earl.  I  kend  a  Countess 
ance,  I  wish  to  Heaven  I  had  never  kend  her!  for  by  that 
acquaintance,  neighbour,  there  cam  (and  she  counted 

114 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

her  withered  fingers  as  she  spoke)  first  Pride,  then  Mal- 
ice, then  Revenge,  then  False  Witness;  and  Murder 
tirFd  at  the  doorpin,  if  he  camna  ben.  And  werena 
thae  pleasant  guests,  think  ye,  to  take  up  their  quarters 
in  ae  woman's  heart?  I  trow  there  was  routh  o'  com- 
pany.' 

*But,  cummer,'  continued  the  beggar,  ^it  wasna  the 
Countess  of  Glenallan  I  meant,  but  her  son,  him  that 
was  Lord  Geraldin.' 

*I  mind  it  now,'  she  said;  saw  him  no  that  lang 
syne,  and  we  had  a  heavy  speech  thegither.  Eh,  sirs,  the 
comely  young  lord  is  turned  as  auld  and  frail  as  I  am: 
it's  muckle  that  sorrow  and  heartbreak  and  crossing  of 
true  love  will  do  wi'  young  blood.  But  suldna  his  mither 
hae  lookit  to  that  hersell?  We  were  but  to  do  her  bid- 
ding, ye  ken.  I  am  sure  there's  naebody  can  blame  me: 
he  wasna  my  son,  and  she  was  my  mistress.  Ye  ken  how 
the  rhyme  says — I  hae  maist  forgotten  how  to  sing,  or 
else  the  tune's  left  my  auld  head:  — 

He  tum'd  him  right  and  round  again, 

Said,  Scorn  na  at  my  mither; 
Light  loves  I  may  get  mony  a  ane, 

But  minnie  ne'er  anither. 

Then  he  was  but  of  the  half  blude,  ye  ken,  and  hers  was 
the  right  Glenallan  after  a'.  Na,  na,  I  maun  never  maen 
doing  and  suffering  for  the  Countess  Joscelin.  Never 
will  I  maen  for  that.' 

Then  drawing  her  flax  from  the  distaff,  with  the 
dogged  air  of  one  who  is  resolved  to  confess  nothing,  she 
resumed  her  interrupted  occupation. 

hae  heard,'  said  the  mendicant,  taking  his  cue  from 
what  Pldbuck  had  told  him  of  the  family  history, 

IIS 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


hae  heard,  cummer,  that  some  ill  tongue  suld  hae  come 
between  the  Earl,  that's  Lord  Geraldin,  and  his  young 
bride/ 

*I11  tongue!'  she  said,  in  hasty  alarm;  ^and  what  had 
she  to  fear  frae  an  ill  tongue?  She  was  gude  and  fair 
eneugh,  at  least  a'  body  said  sae.  But  had  she  keepit  her 
ain  tongue  aff  ither  folk  she  might  hae  been  living  like 
a  leddy  for  a'  that's  come  and  gane  yet.' 

^But  I  hae  heard  say,  gudewife,'  continued  Ochiltree, 
'  there  was  a  clatter  in  the  country,  that  her  husband  and 
her  were  ower  sib  when  they  married.' 

^Wha  durst  speak  o'  that?'  said  the  old  woman,  has- 
tily; '  wha  durst  say  they  were  married  ?  Wha  kend  o' 
that?  Not  the  Countess,  not  I;  if  they  wedded  in  secret 
they  were  severed  in  secret.  They  drank  of  the  foun- 
tains of  their  ain  deceit.' 

*No,  wretched  beldam,'  exclaimed  Oldbuck,  who 
could  keep  silence  no  longer,  Hhey  drank  the  poison 
that  you  and  your  wicked  mistress  prepared  for 
them.' 

^Ha,  ha!'  she  replied,  aye  thought  it  would  come 
to  this:  it's  but  sitting  silent  when  they  examine  me. 
There's  nae  torture  in  our  days;  and  if  there  is,  let  them 
rend  me!  It's  ill  o'  the  vassal's  mouth  that  betrays  the 
bread  it  eats.' 

*  Speak  to  her,  Edie,'  said  the  Antiquary;  'she  knows 
your  voice,  and  answers  to  it  most  readily.' 

'We  shall  mak  naething  mair  out  o'  her,'  said  Ochil- 
tree. 'When  she  has  clinkit  hersell  down  that  way,  and 
faulded  her  arms,  she  winna  speak  a  word,  they  say,  for 
weeks  thegither.  And  besides,  to  my  thinking,  her  face 
is  sair  changed  since  we  cam  in.  However,  I  'se  try  her 

ii6 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

ance  mair  to  satisfy  your  honour.  —  So  you  canna  keep 
in  mind,  cummer,  that  your  auld  mistress,  the  Countess 
Joscelin,  has  been  removed? ' 

^  Removed ! '  she  exclaimed,  for  that  name  never  failed 
to  produce  its  usual  effect  upon  her;  'then  we  maun  a' 
follow.  A'  maun  ride  when  she  is  in  the  saddle.  Tell 
them  to  let  Lord  Geraldin  ken  we're  on  before  them; 
bring  my  hood  and  scarf  —  ye  wadna  hae  me  gang 
in  the  carriage  wi'  my  leddy  and  my  hair  in  this 
fashion? ' 

She  raised  her  shrivelled  arms,  and  seemed  busied  like 
a  woman  who  puts  on  her  cloak  to  go  abroad,  then 
dropped  them  slowly  and  stiffly;  and  the  same  idea  of  a 
journey  still  floating  apparently  through  her  head,  she 
proceeded  in  a  hurried  and  interrupted  manner,  Xall 
Miss  Neville.  What  do  you  mean  by  Lady  Geraldin? 
I  said  Eveline  Neville,  not  Lady  Geraldin;  there's  no 
Lady  Geraldin;  tell  her  that,  and  bid  her  change  her  wet 
gown,  and  no'  look  sae  pale.  Bairn!  what  should  she  do 
wi'  a  bairn?  maidens  hae  nane,  I  trow.  Teresa,  Teresa, 
my  lady  calls  us !  Bring  a  candle,  the  grand  staircase  is 
as  mirk  as  a  Yule  midnight!  We  are  coming,  my  lady!' 
With  these  words  she  sunk  back  on  the  settle,  and  from 
thence  sidelong  to  the  floor.^ 

Edie  ran  to  support  her,  but  hardly  got  her  in  his 
arms  before  he  said,  'It's  a'  ower,  she  has  passed  away 
even  with  that  last  word.' 

'Impossible,'  said  Oldbuck,  hastily  advancing,  as  did 
his  nephew.  But  nothing  was  more  certain.  She  had  ex- 
pired with  the  last  hurried  word  that  left  her  lips ;  and  all 
that  remained  before  them  were  the  mortal  relics  of  the 
*  See  Note  3. 
117 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


creature  who  had  so  long  struggled  with  an  internal 
sense  of  concealed  guilt,  joined  to  all  the  distresses  of  age 
and  poverty. 

^God  grant  that  she  be  gane  to  a  better  place!'  said 
Edie,  as  he  looked  on  the  Hfeless  body;  *but,  oh!  there 
was  something  lying  hard  and  heavy  at  her  heart.  I 
have  seen  mony  a  ane  dee,  baith  in  the  field  o'  battle  and 
a  fair-strae  death  at  hame;  but  I  wad  rather  see  them  a' 
ower  again  as  sic  a  fearfu'  flitting  as  hers!' 

'We  must  call  in  the  neighbours,'  said  Oldbuck,  when 
he  had  somewhat  recovered  his  horror  and  astonish- 
ment, 'and  give  warning  of  this  additional  calamity.  I 
wish  she  could  have  been  brought  to  a  confession.  And, 
though  of  far  less  consequence,  I  could  have  wished  to 
transcribe  that  metrical  fragment.  But  Heaven's  will 
must  be  done!' 

They  left  the  hut  accordingly  and  gave  the  alarm  in 
the  hamlet,  whose  matrons  instantly  assembled  to  com- 
pose the  limbs  and  arrange  the  body  of  her  who  might  be 
considered  as  the  mother  of  their  settlement.  Oldbuck 
promised  his  assistance  for  the  funeral. 

'Your  honour,'  said  Allison  Breck,  who  was  next  in  age 
to  the  deceased,  'suld  send  doun  something  to  us  for 
keeping  up  our  hearts  at  the  lyke-wake,  for  a'  Saunders's 
gin,  puir  man,  was  drucken  out  at  the  burial  o'  Steenie, 
and  we  '11  no  get  mony  to  sit  dry-lipped  aside  the  corpse. 
Elspeth  was  unco  clever  in  her  young  days,  as  I  can 
mind  right  weel,  but  there  was  aye  a  word  o'  her  no  being 
that  chancy.  Ane  suldna  speak  ill  o'  the  dead — mair  by 
token,  o'  ane's  cummer  and  neighbour  —  but  there  was 
queer  things  said  about  a  leddy  and  a  bairn  or  she  left 
the  Craigburnfoot.   And  sae,  in  gude  troth,  it  will  be  a 

ii8 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

puir  lyke-wake  unless  your  honour  sends  us  something 
to  keep  us  cracking.' 

*You  shall  have  some  whiskey/  answered  Oldbuck, 
*the  rather  that  you  have  preserved  the  proper  word 
for  that  ancient  custom  of  watching  the  dead.  You  ob- 
serve, Hector,  this  is  genuine  Teutonic,  from  the  Gothic 
Leichnam,  a  corpse.  It  is  quite  erroneously  called  Late- 
wake,  though  Brand  favours  that  modern  corruption 
and  derivation.' 

^I  believe,'  said  Hector  to  himself,  ^my  uncle  would 
give  away  Monkbarns  to  any  one  who  would  come  to 
ask  it  in  genuine  Teutonic!  Not  a  drop  of  whiskey 
would  the  old  creatures  have  got  had  their  president 
asked  it  for  the  use  of  the  Late-wake,^ 

While  Oldbuck  was  giving  some  farther  directions 
and  promising  assistance,  a  servant  of  Sir  Arthur's  came 
riding  very  hard  along  the  sands,  and  stopped  his  horse 
when  he  saw  the  Antiquary.  *  There  had  something,' 
he  said,  'very  particular  happened  at  the  Castle  (he 
could  not,  or  would  not,  explain  what),  and  Miss  War- 
dour  had  sent  him  off  express  to  Monkbarns,  to  beg  that 
Mr.  Oldbuck  would  come  to  them  without  a  moment's 
delay.' 

'I  am  afraid,'  said  the  Antiquary,  'his  course  also  is 
drawing  to  a  close.  What  can  I  do? ' 

'  Do,  sir ! '  exclaimed  Hector,  with  his  characteristic  im- 
patience. '  Get  on  the  horse  and  turn  his  head  homeward; 
you  will  be  at  Knockwinnock  Castle  in  ten  minutes.' 

'He  is  quite  a  free  goer,'  said  the  servant,  dismount- 
ing to  adjust  the  girths  and  stirrups;  'he  only  pulls 
a  little  if  he  feels  a  dead  weight  on  him.' 

'I  should  soon  be  a  dead  weight  off  him,  my  friend/ 

119 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


said  the  Antiquary.  *  What  the  devil,  nephew,  are  you 
weary  of  me?  or  do  you  suppose  me  weary  of  my  Ufe, 
that  I  should  get  on  the  back  of  such  a  Bucephalus  as 
that?  No,  no,  my  friend,  if  I  am  to  be  at  Knockwin- 
nock  to-day,  it  must  be  by  walking  quietly  forward  on 
my  own  feet,  which  I  will  do  with  as  little  delay  as  pos- 
sible. Captain  M'Intyre  may  ride  that  animal  himself, 
if  he  pleases.' 

have  little  hope  I  could  be  of  any  use,  uncle,  but  I 
cannot  think  of  their  distress  without  wishing  to  show 
sympathy  at  least,  so  I  will  ride  on  before  and  announce 
to  them  that  you  are  coming.  I'll  trouble  you  for  your 
spurs,  my  friend.' 

^  You  will  scarce  need  them,  sir,'  said  the  man,  taking 
them  off  at  the  same  time  and  buckling  them  upon 
Captain  M'Intyre's  heels,  'he's  very  frank  to  the  road.' 

Oldbuck  stood  astonished  at  this  last  act  of  temerity. 

*Are  you  mad,  Hector?'  he  cried,  ^or  have  you  for- 
gotten what  is  said  by  Quintus  Curtius,  with  whom,  as 
a  soldier,  you  must  needs  be  familiar,  Nohilis  equus  um- 
bra quidem  virgcB  regitur;  ignavus  ne  calcari  quidem  ex- 
citari  potest;  which  plainly  shows  that  spurs  are  useless 
in  every  case,  and,  I  may  add,  dangerous  in  most?' 

But  Hector,  who  cared  little  for  the  opinion  of  either 
Quintus  Curtius  or  of  the  Antiquary  upon  such  a  topic, 
only  answered  with  a  heedless  'Never  fear,  never  fear, 
sir.' 

With  that  he  gave  his  able  horse  the  head, 
And,  bending  forward,  struck  his  armed  heels 
Against  the  panting  sides  of  his  poor  jade, 
Up  to  the  rowel-head;  and  starting  so, 
He  seem'd  in  running  to  devour  the  way, 
Staying  no  longer  question. 


1 20 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

'There  they  go,  well  matched/  said  Oldbuck,  looking 
after  them  as  they  started  —  ^  a  mad  horse  and  a  wild 
boy,  the  two  most  unruly  creatures  in  Christendom! 
and  all  to  get  half  an  hour  sooner  to  a  place  where  no- 
body wants  him;  for  I  doubt  Sir  Arthur's  griefs  are  be- 
yond the  cure  of  our  light  horseman.  It  must  be  the 
villainy  of  Dousterswivel,  for  whom  Sir  Arthur  has 
done  so  much;  for  I  cannot  help  observing  that  with 
some  natures  Tacitus's  maxim  holdeth  good:  Beneficia 
CO  usque  Iceta  sunt  dum  videntur  exsolvi  posse;  ubi  muU 
turn  antevenere,  pro  gratia  odium  redditur,  from  which  a 
wise  man  might  take  a  caution  not  to  oblige  any  man 
beyond  the  degree  in  which  he  may  expect  to  be  re- 
quited, lest  he  should  make  his  debtor  a  bankrupt  in 
gratitude.' 

Murmuring  to  himself  such  scraps  of  cynical  philoso- 
phy, our  Antiquary  paced  the  sands  towards  Knock- 
winnock;  but  it  is  necessary  we  should  outstrip  him  for 
the  purpose  of  explaining  the  reasons  of  his  being  so 
anxiously  summoned  thither. 


CHAPTER  XLI 


So,  while  the  goose,  of  whom  the  fable  told, 

Incumbent,  brooded  o  'er  her  eggs  of  gold, 

With  hand  outstretch'd,  impatient  to  destroy, 

Stole  on  her  secret  nest  the  cruel  boy. 

Whose  gripe  rapacious  changed  her  splendid  dream 

For  wings  vain  fluttering  and  for  dying  scream.  * 

The  Loves  of  the  Sea-Weeds, 

From  the  time  that  Sir  Arthur  Wardour  had  become 
possessor  of  the  treasure  found  in  Misticot's  grave,  he 
had  been  in  a  state  of  mind  more  resembling  ecstasy 
than  sober  sense.  Indeed,  at  one  time  his  daughter  had 
become  seriously  apprehensive  for  his  intellect;  for,  as 
he  had  no  doubt  that  he  had  the  secret  of  possessing 
himself  of  wealth  to  an  unbounded  extent,  his  language 
and  carriage  were  those  of  a  man  who  had  acquired  the 
philosopher's  stone.  He  talked  of  buying  contiguous 
estates  that  would  have  led  him  from  one  side  of  the 
island  to  the  other,  as  if  he  were  determined  to  brook 
no  neighbour  save  the  sea.  He  corresponded  with  an 
architect  of  eminence  upon  a  plan  of  renovating  the 
castle  of  his  forefathers  on  a  style  of  extended  magni- 
ficence that  might  have  rivalled  that  of  Windsor,  and 
laying  out  the  grounds  on  a  suitable  scale.  Troops  of 
liveried  menials  were  already  in  fancy  marshalled  in 
his  halls,  and  —  for  what  may  not  unbounded  wealth 
authorise  its  possessor  to  aspire  to?  —  the  coronet  of 
a  marquis,  perhaps  of  a  duke,  was  ghttering  before  his 
imagination.  His  daughter  —  to  what  matches  might 
she  not  look  forward?  Even  an  alliance  with  the  blood- 

122 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


royal  was  not  beyond  the  sphere  of  his  hopes.  His  son 
was  already  a  general,  and  he  himself  whatever  ambi- 
tion could  dream  of  in  its  wildest  visions. 

In  this  mood,  if  any  one  endeavoured  to  bring  Sir 
Arthur  down  to  the  regions  of  common  life,  his  replies 
were  in  the  vein  of  Ancient  Pistol: 

A  fico  for  the  world  and  worldlings  base! 
I  speak  of  Africa  and  golden  joys! 

The  reader  may  conceive  the  amazement  of  Miss 
Wardour  when,  instead  of  undergoing  an  investigation 
concerning  the  addresses  of  Lovel,  as  she  had  expected 
from  the  long  conference  of  her  father  with  Mr.  Oldbuck 
upon  the  morning  of  the  fated  day  when  the  treasure  was 
discovered,  the  conversation  of  Sir  Arthur  announced 
an  imagination  heated  with  the  hopes  of  possessing 
the  most  unbounded  wealth.  But  she  was  seriously 
alarmed  when  Dousterswivel  was  sent  for  to  the  Castle, 
and  was  closeted  with  her  father,  his  mishap  condoled 
with,  his  part  taken,  and  his  loss  compensated.  All  the 
suspicions  which  she  had  long  entertained  respecting 
this  man  became  strengthened  by  observing  his  pains 
to  keep  up  the  golden  dreams  of  her  father,  and  to  se- 
cure for  himself,  under  various  pretexts,  as  much  as  pos- 
sible out  of  the  windfall  which  had  so  strangely  fallen 
to  Sir  Arthur's  share. 

Other  evil  symptoms  began  to  appear,  following  close 
on  each  other.  Letters  arrived  every  post,  which  Sir 
Arthur,  as  soon  as  he  had  looked  at  the  directions,  flung 
into  the  fire  without  taking  the  trouble  to  open  them. 
Miss  Wardour  could  not  help  suspecting  that  these 
epistles,  the  contents  of  which  seemed  to  be  known  to 


123 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


her  father  by  a  sort  of  intuition,  came  from  pressing 
creditors.  In  the  meanwhile  the  temporary  aid  which 
he  had  received  from  the  treasure  dwindled  fast  away. 
By  far  the  greater  part  had  been  swallowed  up  by  the 
necessity  of  paying  the  bill  of  six  hundred  pounds  which 
had  threatened  Sir  Arthur  with  instant  distress.  Of  the 
rest,  some  part  was  given  to  the  adept,  some  wasted 
upon  extravagances  which  seemed  to  the  poor  knight 
fully  authorised  by  his  full-blown  hopes,  and  some  went 
to  stop  for  a  time  the  mouths  of  such  claimants  who, 
being  weary  of  fair  promises,  had  become  of  opin- 
ion with  Harpagon  that  it  was  necessary  to  touch  some- 
thing substantial.  At  length  circumstances  announced 
but  too  plainly  that  it  was  all  expended  within  two  or 
three  days  after  its  discovery;  and  there  appeared  no 
prospect  of  a  supply.  Sir  Arthur,  naturally  impatient, 
now  taxed  Dousterswivel  anew  with  breach  of  those 
promises  through  which  he  had  hoped  to  convert  all  his 
lead  into  gold.  But  that  worthy  gentleman's  turn  was 
now  served ;  and,  as  he  had  grace  enough  to  wish  to  avoid 
witnessing  the  fall  of  the  house  which  he  had  under- 
mined, he  was  at  the  trouble  of  bestowing  a  few  learned 
terms  of  art  upon  Sir  Arthur,  that  at  least  he  might  not 
be  tormented  before  his  time.  He  took  leave  of  him 
with  assurances  that  he  would  return  to  Knockwinnock 
the  next  morning  with  such  information  as  would  not 
fail  to  relieve  Sir  Arthur  from  all  his  distresses. 

^  For,  since  I  have  consulted  in  such  matters,  I  have 
never,'  said  Mr.  Herman  Dousterswivel,  ^approached  so 
near  de  arcanum,  what  you  call  de  great  mystery  —  de 
Panchresta,  de  Polychresta;  I  do  know  as  much  of  it  as 
Pelaso  de  Taranta  or  BasiKus,  and  either  I  will  bring 

124 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


you  in  two  and  tree  days  de  No.  HI.  of  Mr.  Mishdigoat, 
or  you  shall  call  me  one  knave  myself,  and  never  look 
me  in  de  face  again  no  more  at  all/ 

The  adept  departed  with  this  assurance,  in  the  firm 
resolution  of  making  good  the  latter  part  of  the  propo- 
sition, and  never  again  appearing  before  his  injured 
patron.  Sir  Arthur  remained  in  a  doubtful  and  anxious 
state  of  mind.  The  positive  assurances  of  the  philoso- 
pher, with  the  hard  words  Panchresta,  Basilius,  and  so 
forth,  produced  some  effect  on  his  mind.  But  he  had 
been  too  often  deluded  by  such  jargon  to  be  absolutely 
relieved  of  his  doubt,  and  he  retired  for  the  evening 
into  his  Ubrary  in  the  fearful  state  of  one  who,  hanging 
over  a  precipice,  and  without  the  means  of  retreat, 
perceives  the  stone  on  which  he  rests  gradually  parting 
from  the  rest  of  the  crag  and  about  to  give  way  with 
him. 

The  visions  of  hope  decayed,  and  there  increased  in 
proportion  that  feverish  agony  of  anticipation  with 
which  a  man,  educated  in  a  sense  of  consequence,  and 
possessed  of  opulence,  the  supporter  of  an  ancient 
name,  and  the  father  of  two  promising  children,  fore- 
saw the  hour  approaching  which  should  deprive  him  of 
all  the  splendor  which  time  had  made  familiarly  neces- 
sary to  him,  and  send  him  forth  into  the  world  to  strug- 
gle with  poverty,  with  rapacity,  and  with  scorn.  Under 
these  dire  forebodings  his  temper,  exhausted  by  the 
sickness  of  delayed  hope,  became  peevish  and  fretful, 
and  his  words  and  actions  sometimes  expressed  a  reck- 
less desperation  which  alarmed  Miss  Wardour  ex- 
tremely. We  have  seen  on  a  former  occasion  that  Sir 
Arthur  was  a  man  of  passions  lively  and  quick,  in  pro- 

I2S 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


portion  to  the  weakness  of  his  character  in  other  re- 
spects; he  was  unused  to  contradiction,  and  if  he  had 
been  hitherto,  in  general,  good-humoured  and  cheerful, 
it  was  probably  because  the  course  of  his  Ufe  had  af- 
forded no  such  frequent  provocation  as  to  render  his 
irritability  habitual. 

;  On  the  third  morning  after  DousterswivePs  depart- 
ure, the  servant,  as  usual,  laid  on  the  breakfast  table 
the  newspaper  and  letters  of  the  day.  Miss  Wardour 
took  up  the  former  to  avoid  the  continued  ill-humour  of 
her  father,  who  had  wrought  himself  into  a  violent 
passion  because  the  toast  was  overbrowned. 

perceive  how  it  is,'  was  his  concluding  speech  on 
this  interesting  subject:  *my  servants,  who  have  had 
their  share  of  my  fortune,  begin  to  think  there  is  little 
to  be  made  of  me  in  future.  But  while  I  am  the  scoun- 
drels' master  I  will  be  so,  and  permit  no  neglect  —  no, 
nor  endure  a  hair's-breadth  diminution  of  the  respect 
I  am  entitled  to  exact  from  them.' 

'I  am  ready  to  leave  your  honour's  service  this  in- 
stant,' said  the  domestic  upon  whom  the  fault  had 
been  charged,  'as  soon  as  you  order  payment  of  my 
wages.' 

Sir  Arthur,  as  if  stung  by  a  serpent,  thrust  his  hand 
into  his  pocket  and  instantly  drew  out  the  money  which 
it  contained,  but  which  was  short  of  the  man's  claim. 
'What  money  have  you  got,  Miss  Wardour?'  he  said, 
in  a  tone  of  affected  calmness,  but  which  concealed  vio- 
lent agitation. 

Miss  Wardour  gave  him  her  purse;  he  attempted  to 
count  the  bank  notes  which  it  contained,  but  could  not 
reckon  them.  After  twice  miscounting  the  sum,  he 

126 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

threw  the  whole  to  his  daughter,  and  saying  in  a  stem 
voice,  *Pay  the  rascal,  and  let  him  leave  the  house  in- 
stantly!' he  strode  out  of  the  room. 

The  mistress  and  servant  stood  alike  astonished  at 
the  agitation  and  vehemence  of  his  manner. 

am  sure,  ma'am,  if  I  had  thought  I  was  particu- 
larly wrang  I  wadna  hae  made  ony  answer  when  Sir 
Arthur  challenged  me.  I  hae  been  lang  in  his  service, 
and  he  has  been  a  kind  master,  and  you  a  kind  mistress, 
and  I  wad  like  ill  ye  should  think  I  wad  start  for  a  hasty 
word.  I  am  sure  it  was  very  wrang  o'  me  to  speak  about 
wages  to  his  honour,  when  maybe  he  has  something  to 
vex  him.  I  had  nae  thoughts  o'  leaving  the  family  in 
this  way. ' 

'Go  downstairs,  Robert,'  said  his  mistress;  'some- 
thing has  happened  to  fret  my  father;  go  downstairs, 
and  let  AHck  answer  the  bell.' 

When  the  man  left  the  room,  Sir  Arthur  reentered, 
as  if  he  had  been  watching  his  departure.  'What's  the 
meaning  of  this?'  he  said,  hastily,  as  he  observed  the 
notes  lying  still  on  the  table.  'Is  he  not  gone?  Am  I 
neither  to  be  obeyed  as  a  master  or  a  father? ' 

'He  is  gone  to  give  up  his  charge  to  the  house- 
keeper, sir;  I  thought  there  was  not  such  instant 
haste.' 

'There  is  haste,  Miss  Wardour,'  answered  her  father, 
interrupting  her.  'What  I  do  henceforth  in  the  house 
of  my  forefathers  must  be  done  speedily  or  never.' 

He  then  sate  down  and  took  up  with  a  trembling 
hand  the  basin  of  tea  prepared  for  him,  protracting  the 
swallowing  of  it,  as  if  to  delay  the  necessity  of  opening 
the  post-letters  which  lay  on  the  table,  and  which  he 

127 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

eyed  from  time  to  time,  as  if  they  had  been  a  nest  of 
adders  ready  to  start  into  life  and  spring  upon  him. 

^  You  will  be  happy  to  hear/  said  Miss  Wardour,  will- 
ing to  withdraw  her  father's  mind  from  the  gloomy  re- 
flections in  which  he  appeared  to  be  plunged,  ^you  will 
be  happy  to  hear,  sir,  that  Lieutenant  TaffriFs  gun- 
brig  has  got  safe  into  Leith  Roads.  I  observe  there  had 
been  apprehensions  for  his  safety;  I  am  glad  we  did  not 
hear  them  till  they  were  contradicted.' 

^  And  what  is  Taflril  and  his  gun-brig  to  me  ? ' 

'Sir!'  said  Miss  Wardour  in  astonishment;  for  Sir 
Arthur,  in  his  ordinary  state  of  mind,  took  a  fidgety  sort 
of  interest  in  all  the  gossip  of  the  day  and  country. 

'I  say,'  he  repeated,  in  a  higher  and  still  more  im- 
patient key,  'what  do  I  care  who  is  saved  or  lost?  It's 
nothing  to  me,  I  suppose?' 

'I  did  not  know  you  were  busy,  Sir  Arthur;  and 
thought,  as  Mr.  Taffril  is  a  brave  man,  and  from  our 
own  country,  you  would  be  happy  to  hear  — ' 

'Oh,  I  am  happy,  as  happy  as  possible;  and,  to  make 
you  happy  too,  you  shall  have  some  of  my  good  news 
in  return.'  And  he  caught  up  a  letter.  'It  does  not 
signify  which  I  open  first,  they  are  all  to  the  same  tune.' 

He  broke  the  seal  hastily,  run  the  letter  over,  and 
then  threw  it  to  his  daughter.  'Ay;  I  could  not  have 
lighted  more  happily!  this  places  the  copestone.' 

Miss  Wardour,  in  silent  terror,  took  up  the  letter. 
'Read  it  — read  it  aloud!'  said  her  father.  'It  cannot 
be  read  too  often;  it  will  serve  to  break  you  in  for  other 
good  news  of  the  same  kind.' 

She  began  to  read  with  a  faltering  voice,  'Dear  Sir.' 

'  He  "  dears  "  me  too,  you  see  —  this  impudent  drudge 
128 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

of  a  writer's  office,  who  a  twelvemonth  since  was  not 
fit  company  for  my  second  table.  I  suppose  I  shall  b.e 
"  dear  Knight"  with  him  by  and  by.'  >  « 

'''Dear  Sir/"  resumed  Miss  Wardour;  but,  inter- 
rupting herself,  'I  see  the  contents  are  unpleasant,  sir; 
it  will  only  vex  you,  my  reading  them  aloud.' 

*If  you  will  allow  me  to  know  my  own  pleasure.  Miss 
Wardour,  I  entreat  you  to  go  on;  I  presume,  if  it  were 
unnecessary,  I  should  not  ask  you  to  take  the  trouble.' 

* "  Having  been  of  late  taken  into  copartnery," '  con- 
tinued Miss  Wardour,  reading  the  letter,  *  "  by  Mr.  Gil- 
bert Greenhorn,  son  of  your  late  correspondent  and 
man  of  business,  Girnigo  Greenhorn,  Esq.,  writer  to  the 
signet,  whose  business  I  conducted  as  pariiament-house 
clerk  for  many  years,  which  business  will  in  future  be 
carried  on  under  the  firm  of  Greenhorn  and  Grinderson 
—  which  I  memorandum  for  the  sake  of  accuracy  in 
addressing  your  future  letters  —  and  having  had  of 
late  favours  of  yours,  directed  to  my  aforesaid  partner, 
Gilbert  Greenhorn,  in  consequence  of  his  absence  at 
the  Lamberton  races,  have  the  honour  to  reply  to  your 
said  favours." ' 

^  You  see  my  friend  is  methodical,  and  commences  by 
explaining  the  causes  which  have  procured  me  so 
modest  and  elegant  a  correspondent.  Go  on,  I  can  bear 
it.' 

And  he  laughed  that  bitter  laugh  which  is  perhaps 
the  most  fearful  expression  of  mental  misery.  Trem- 
bling to  proceed,  and  yet  afraid  to  disobey.  Miss  War- 
dour continued  to  read: '  "  I  am,  for  myself  and  partner, 
sorry  we  cannot  oblige  you  by  looking  out  for  the  sums 
you  mention,  or  applying  for  a  suspension  in  the  case  of 

129 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


Goldiebirds'  bond,  which  would  be  more  inconsistent 
as  we  have  been  employed  to  act  as  the  said  Goldie- 
birds'  procurators  and  attorneys,  in  which  capacity  we 
have  taken  out  a  charge  of  horning  against  you,  as  you 
must  be  aware  by  the  schedule  left  by  the  messenger, 
for  the  sum  of  four  thousand  seven  hundred  and  fifty- 
six  pounds  five  shillings  and  sixpence  one-fourth  of  a 
penny  sterling,  which,  with  annual  rent  and  expenses 
effeiring,  we  presume  will  be  settled  during  the  currency 
of  the  charge,  to  prevent  further  trouble.  Same  time, 
I  am  under  the  necessity  to  observe  our  own  account, 
amounting  to  seven  hundred  and  sixty-nine  pounds  ten 
shillings  and  sixpence,  is  also  due,  and  settlement  will 
be  agreeable;  but,  as  we  hold  your  rights,  title-deeds, 
and  documents  in  hypothec,  shall  have  no  objection  to 
give  reasonable  time  —  say  till  the  next  money  term. 
I  am,  for  myself  and  partner,  concerned  to  add  that 
Messrs.  Goldiebirds'  instructions  to  us  are,  to  proceed 
peremptorie  and  sine  mora,  of  which  I  have  the  pleasure 
to  advise  you  to  prevent  future  mistakes,  reserving  to 
ourselves  otherwise  to  age  as  accords.  I  am,  for  self 
and  partner,  dear  sir,  your  obliged  humble  servant, 
Gabriel  Grinderson,  for  Greenhorn  and  Grinderson." ' 

^Ungrateful  villain!'  said  Miss  Wardour. 

'Why,  no;  it's  in  the  usual  rule,  I  suppose.  The  blow 
could  not  have  been  perfect  if  dealt  by  another  hand; 
it's  all  just  as  it  should  be,'  answered  the  poor  Baronet, 
his  affected  composure  sorely  belied  by  his  quivering 
lip  and  rolling  eye.  'But  here's  a  postscript  I  did  not 
notice;  come,  finish  the  epistle.' 

'''I  have  to  add  —  not  for  self,  but  partner  —  that 
Mr.  Greenhorn  will  accommodate  you  by  taking  your 

130 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

service  of  plate,  or  the  bay  horses,  if  sound  in  wind  and 
limb,  at  a  fair  appreciation,  in  part  payment  of  your 
account." ' 

— d  confound  himP  said  Sir  Arthur,  losing  all 
command  of  himself  at  this  condescending  proposal; 
'his  grandfather  shod  my  father's  horses,  and  this 
descendant  of  a  scoundrelly  blacksmith  proposes  to 
swindle  me  out  of  mine!  But  I  will  write  him  a  proper 
answer/ 

And  he  sate  down  and  began  to  write  with  great  ve- 
hemence, then  stopped  and  read  aloud:  '  '*  Mr.  Gilbert 
Greenhorn,  In  answer  to  two  letters  of  a  late  date,  I 
received  a  letter  from  a  person  calling  himself  Grinder- 
son,  and  designing  himself  as  your  partner.  When  I 
address  any  one  I  do  not  usually  expect  to  be  answered 
by  deputy.  I  think  I  have  been  useful  to  your  father, 
and  friendly  and  civil  to  yourself,  and  therefore  am  now 
surprised — And  yet,'  said  he,  stopping  short,  ^why 
should  I  be  surprised  at  that  or  anything  else,  or  why 
should  I  take  up  my  time  in  writing  to  such  a  scoun- 
drel? I  shan't  be  always  kept  in  prison,  I  suppose, 
and  to  break  that  puppy's  bones  when  I  get  out  shall 
be  my  j&rst  employment.' 

'In  prison,  sir?'  said  Miss  Wardour,  faintly. 

*  Ay,  in  prison,  to  be  sure.  Do  you  make  any  question 
about  that?  Why,  Mr.  What's-his-name's  fine  letter 
for  self  and  partner  seems  to  be  thrown  away  on  you, 
or  else  you  have  got  four  thousand  so  many  hundred 
pounds,  with  the  due  proportion  of  shillings,  pence, 
and  half-pence,  to  pay  that  aforesaid  demand,  as  he 
calls  it.' 

'I,  sir?  O  if  I  had  the  means!  But  where 's  my 
131 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


brother?  Why  does  he  not  come,  and  so  long  in  Scot- 
land? He  might  do  something  to  assist  us.' 

'Who,  Reginald?  I  suppose  he's  gone  with  Mr.  Gil- 
bert Greenhorn,  or  some  such  respectable  person,  to  the 
Lamberton  races.  I  have  expected  him  this  week  past; 
but  I  cannot  wonder  that  my  children  should  neglect 
me  as  well  as  every  other  person.  But  I  should  beg  your 
pardon,  my  love,  who  never  either  neglected  or  offended 
me  in  your  life. ' 

And,  kissing  her  cheek  as  she  threw  her  arms  round 
his  neck,  he  experienced  that  consolation  which  a  parent 
feels,  even  in  the  most  distressed  state,  in  the  assurance 
that  he  possesses  the  affection  of  a  child. 

Miss  Wardour  took  the  advantage  of  this  revulsion  of 
f eeHng  to  endeavour  to  soothe  her  father's  mind  to  com- 
posure. She  reminded  him  that  he  had  many  friends. 

'I  had  many  once,'  said  Sir  Arthur;  'but  of  some  I 
have  exhausted  their  kindness  with  my  frantic  projects, 
others  are  unable  to  assist  me,  others  are  unwilling;  it 
is  all  over  with  me.  I  only  hope  Reginald  will  take 
example  by  my  folly.' 

*  Should  I  not  send  to  Monkbarns,  sir?'  said  his 
daughter. 

*To  what  purpose?  He  cannot  lend  me  such  a  sum, 
and  would  not  if  he  could,  for  he  knows  I  am  otherwise 
drowned  in  debt;  and  he  would  only  give  me  scraps  of 
misanthropy  and  quaint  ends  of  Latin.' 

'But  he  is  shrewd  and  sensible,  and  was  bred  to 
business,  and,  I  am  sure,  always  loved  this  family.' 

'Yes,  I  beheve  he  did:  it  is  a  fine  pass  we  are  come  to 
when  the  affection  of  an  Oldbuck  is  of  consequence  to  a 
Wardour!  But  when  matters  come  to  extremity,  as  I 

132. 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

suppose  they  presently  will,  it  may  be  as  well  to  send 
for  him.  And  now  go  take  your  walk,  my  dear;  my 
mind  is  more  composed  than  when  I  had  this  cursed  dis- 
closure to  make.  You  know  the  worst,  and  may  daily 
or  hourly  expect  it.  Go  take  your  walk;  I  would  will- 
ingly be  alone  for  a  little  while.' 

When  Miss  Wardour  left  the  apartment  her  first  oc- 
cupation was  to  avail  herself  of  the  half  permission 
granted  by  her  father,  by  despatching  to  Monkbarns 
the  messenger,  who,  as  we  have  already  seen,  met  the 
Antiquary  and  his  nephew  on  the  seabeach. 

Little  recking,  and  indeed  scarce  knowing,  where  she 
was  wandering,  chance  directed  her  into  the  walk  be- 
neath the  Briery  Bank,  as  it  was  called.  A  brook,  which 
in  former  days  had  supplied  the  castle  moat  with  water, 
here  descended  through  a  narrow  dell,  up  which  Miss 
Wardour's  taste  had  directed  a  natural  path,  which  was 
rendered  neat  and  easy  of  ascent,  without  the  air  of  be- 
ing formally  made  and  preserved.  It  suited  well  the 
character  of  the  httle  glen,  which  was  overhung  with 
thickets  and  underwood,  chiefly  of  larch  and  hazel,  inter- 
mixed with  the  usual  varieties  of  the  thorn  and  brier.  In 
this  walk  had  passed  that  scene  of  explanation  between 
Miss  Wardour  and  Lovel  which  was  overheard  by  old 
Edie  Ochiltree.  With  a  heart  softened  by  the  distress 
which  approached  her  family.  Miss  Wardour  now  re- 
called every  word  and  argument  which  Lovel  had  urged 
in  support  of  his  suit,  and  could  not  help  confessing  to 
herself  it  was  no  small  subject  of  pride  to  have  inspired 
a  young  man  of  his  talents  with  a  passion  so  strong  and 
disinterested.  That  he  should  have  left  the  pursuit  of 
a  profession  in  which  he  was  said  to  be  rapidly  rising  to 

133 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


bury  himself  in  a  disagreeable  place  like  Fairport,  and 
brood  over  an  unrequited  passion,  might  be  ridiculed 
by  others  as  romantic,  but  was  naturally  forgiven  as  an 
excess  of  affection  by  the  person  who  was  the  object 
of  his  attachment.  Had  he  possessed  an  independence, 
however  moderate,  or  ascertained  a  clear  and  undis- 
puted claim  to  the  rank  in  society  he  was  well  qualified 
to  adorn,  she  might  now  have  had  it  in  her  power  to  offer 
her  father,  during  his  misfortunes,  an  asylum  in  an  estab- 
lishment of  her  own.  These  thoughts,  so  favourable  to 
the  absent  lover,  crowded  in,  one  after  the  other,  with 
such  a  minute  recapitulation  of  his  words,  looks,  and 
actions  as  plainly  intimated  that  his  former  repulse 
had  been  dictated  rather  by  duty  than  inclination. 
Isabella  was  musing  alternately  upon  this  subject  and 
upon  that  of  her  father's  misfortunes  when,  as  the  path 
winded  round  a  Httle  hillock  covered  with  brushwood, 
the  old  Blue-Gown  suddenly  met  her. 

With  an  air  as  if  he  had  something  important  and 
mysterious  to  communicate  he  doffed  his  bonnet,  and 
assumed  the  cautious  step  and  voice  of  one  who  would 
not  willingly  be  overheard.  *I  hae  been  wishing  muckle 
to  meet  wi'  your  leddyship;  for  ye  ken  I  darena  come  to 
the  house  for  Dousterswivel.' 

*I  heard  indeed,'  said  Miss  Wardour,  dropping  an 
alms  into  the  bonnet,  'I  heard  that  you  had  done  a 
very  foolish,  if  not  a  very  bad  thing,  Edie,  and  I  was 
sorry  to  hear  it.' 

'Hout,  my  bonny  leddy  —  fulish?  A'  the  warld's 
fules,  and  how  should  auld  Edie  Ochiltree  be  aye  wise? 
and  for  the  evil,  let  them  wha  deal  wi'  Dousterswivel 
tell  whether  he  gat  a  grain  mair  than  his  deserts.' 

134 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

'That  may  be  true,  Edie,  and  yet/  said  Miss  War- 
dour,  'you  may  have  been  very  wrong.' 

'Weel,  weel,  we'se  no  dispute  that  e'enow;  it's  about 
yoursell  I 'm  gaun  to  speak.  Div  ye  ken  what 's  hanging 
ower  the  house  of  Knockwinnock? ' 

'Great  distress,  I  fear,  Edie,'  answered  Miss  War^ 
dour;  'but  I  am  surprised  it  is  already  so  public* 

'Public!  Sweepclean,  the  messenger,  will  be  there 
the  day  wi'  a'  his  tackle.  I  ken  it  frae  ane  o'  his  concur- 
rents, as  they  ca'  them,  that's  warned  to  meet  him; 
and  they'll  be  about  their  wark  helyve.  Whare  they 
cUp  there  needs  nae  kame:  they  sheer  close  eneugh.' 

'Are  you  sure  this  bad  hour,  Edie,  is  so  very  near? 
come  I  know  it  will.' 

'  It 's  e'en  as  I  tell  you,  leddy !  but  dinna  be  cast  down ; 
there's  a  heaven  ower  your  head  here,  as  weel  as  in  that 
fearful  night  atween  the  Ballyburgh  Ness  and  the  Halket 
Head.  D'  ye  think  He  wha  rebuked  the  waters  canna 
protect  you  against  the  wrath  of  men,  though  they  be 
armed  with  human  authority?' 

'It  is,  indeed,  all  we  have  to  trust  to/ 

'Ye  dinna  ken  —  ye  dinna  ken;  when  the  night's 
darkest  the  dawn's  nearest.  If  I  had  a  gude  horse,  or 
could  ride  him  when  I  had  him,  I  reckon  there  wad  be 
help  yet.  I  trusted  to  hae  gotten  a  cast  wi'  the  Royal 
Charlotte,  but  she's  coupit  yonder,  it's  like,  at  Kittle- 
brig.  There  was  a  young  gentleman  on  the  box,  and  he 
behuved  to  drive;  and  Tam  Sang,  that  suld  hae  mair 
sense,  he  behuved  to  let  him,  and  the  daft  callant 
couldna  tak  the  turn  at  the  corner  o'  the  brig,  and  od! 
he  took  the  curbstane,  and  he's  whomled  her  as  I  wad 
whomle  a  toom  bicker  —  it  was  a  luck  I  hadna  gotten 

135 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


on  the  tap  o'  her.  Sae  I  came  down  atween  hope  and 
despair  to  see  if  ye  wad  send  me  on.' 

'And,  Edie,  where  would  ye  go?'  said  the  young 
lady. 

'To  Tannonburgh,  my  leddy'  (which  was  the  first 
stage  from  Fairport,  but  a  good  deal  nearer  to  Knock- 
winnock),  'and  that  without  delay;  it's  a'  on  your  ain 
business.' 

'Our  business,  Edie?  Alas!  I  give  you  all  credit  for 
your  good  meaning,  but  — ' 

'There's  nae  "buts"  about  it,  my  leddy,  for  gang  I 
maun,'  said  the  persevering  Blue-Gown. 

'But  what  is  it  that  you  would  do  at  Tannonburgh? 
or  how  can  your  going  there  benefit  my  father's 
affairs?' 

'Indeed,  my  sweet  leddy,'  said  the  gaberlunzie,  'ye 
maun  just  trust  that  bit  secret  to  auld  Edie's  grey  pow, 
and  ask  nae  questions  about  it.  Certainly  if  I  wad  hae 
wared  my  life  for  you  yon  night,  I  can  hae  nae  reason 
to  play  an  ill  pliskie  t'  ye  in  the  day  o'  your  distress.' 

'Well,  Edie,  follow  me  then,'  said  Miss  Wardour, 
*and  I  will  try  to  get  you  sent  to  Tannonburgh.' 

'Mak  haste  then,  my  bonny  leddy,  mak  haste,  for  the 
love  o'  goodness!'  and  he  continued  to  exhort  her  to 
expedition  imtil  they  reached  the  Castle. 


CHAPTER  XLII 


Let  those  go  see  who  will;  I  like  it  not, 
For,  say  he  was  a  slave  to  rank  and  pomp, 
And  all  the  nothings  he  is  now  divorced  from 
By  the  hard  doom  of  stern  necessity; 
Yet  is  it  sad  to  mark  his  alter'd  brow. 
Where  Vanity  adjusts  her  flimsy  veil 
O'er  the  deep  wrinkles  of  repentant  anguish. 

Old  Play. 

When  Miss  Wardour  arrived  in  the  Court  of  the  Castle, 
she  was  apprised  by  the  first  glance  that  the  visit  of  the 
officers  of  the  law  had  already  taken  place.  There  was 
confusion,  and  gloom,  and  sorrow,  and  curiosity  among 
the  domestics,  while  the  retainers  of  the  law  went  from 
place  to  place,  making  an  inventory  of  the  goods  and 
chattels  falling  under  their  warrant  of  distress,  or  poind- 
ing, as  it  is  called  in  the  law  of  Scotland.  Captain  MTn- 
tyre  flew  to  her,  as,  struck  dumb  with  the  melancholy 
conviction  of  her  father's  ruin,  she  paused  upon  the 
threshold  of  the  gateway. 

^Dear  Miss  Wardour,'  he  said,  ^  do  not  make  yourself 
uneasy;  my  uncle  is  coming  immediately,  and  I  am 
sure  he  will  find  some  way  to  clear  the  house  of  these 
rascals.' 

'Alas!  Captain  MTntyre,  I  fear  it  will  be  too  late.' 

'No,'  answered  Edie,  impatiently,  'could  I  but  get 
to  Tannonburgh.  In  the  name  of  Heaven,  Captain! 
contrive  some  way  to  get  me  on,  and  ye '11  do  this  poor 
ruined  family  the  best  day's  doing  that  has  been  done 
them  since  Red-hand's  days;  for  as  sure  as  e'er  an  auld 

137 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


saw  came  true,  Knockwinnock  house  and  land  will  be 
lost  and  won  this  day.' 

'Why,  what  good  can  you  do,  old  man?'  said  Hector. 

But  Robert,  the  domestic  with  whom  Sir  Arthur  had 
been  so  much  displeased  in  the  morning,  as  if  he  had 
been  watching  for  an  opportunity  to  display  his  zeal, 
stepped  hastily  forward  and  said  to  his  mistress,  'If 
you  please,  ma'am,  this  auld  man,  Ochiltree,  is  very 
skeely  and  auld-farrant  about  mony  things,  as  the  dis- 
eases of  cows  and  horse,  and  sic  like,  and  I  am  sure 
he  disna  want  to  be  at  Tannonburgh  the  day  for  nae- 
thing,  since  he  insists  on't  this  gate;  and,  if  your  leddy- 
ship  pleases,  I'll  drive  him  there  in  the  taxed  cart  in  an 
hour's  time.  I  wad  fain  be  of  some  use;  I  could  bite  my 
very  tongue  out  when  I  think  on  this  morning.^ 

'I  am  obliged  to  you,  Robert,'  said  Miss  Wardour; 
^  and  if  you  really  think  it  has  the  least  chance  of  being 
useful  — ' 

'In  the  name  of  God,'  said  the  old  man,  'yoke  the 
cart,  Robie,  and  if  I  am  no  o'  some  use,  less  or  mair,  I  '11 
gie  ye  leave  to  fling  me  ower  Kittlebrig,  as  ye  come  back 
again.  But,  0  man,  haste  ye,  for  time 's  precious  this 
day.' 

Robert  looked  at  his  mistress  as  she  retired  into  the 
house,  and,  seeing  he  was  not  prohibited,  flew  to  the 
stable-yard,  which  was  adjacent  to  the  court,  in  order 
to  yoke  the  carriage;  for,  though  an  old  beggar  was  the 
personage  least  likely  to  render  effectual  assistance  in  a 
case  of  pecuniary  distress,  yet  there  was  among  the 
common  people  of  Edie's  circle  a  general  idea  of  his 
prudence  and  sagacity  which  authorized  Robert's  con- 
clusion, that  he  would  not  so  earnestly  have  urged  the 

138 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


necessity  of  this  expedition  had  he  not  been  convinced 
of  its  utility.  But  so  soon  as  the  servant  took  hold  of 
a  horse  to  harness  him  for  the  tax-cart,  an  officer 
touched  him  on  the  shoulder  :  'My  friend,  you  must 
let  that  beast  alone,  he 's  down  in  the  schedule.' 

'What,'  said  Robert,  'am  I  not  to  take  my  master's 
horse  to  go  my  young  leddy 's  errand  ? ' 

'You  must  remove  nothing  here,'  said  the  man  of 
office,  'or  you  will  be  liable  for  all  consequences.' 

'What  the  devil,  sir,'  said  Hector,  who,  having  fol- 
lowed to  examine  Ochiltree  more  closely  on  the  nature 
of  his  hopes  and  expectations,  already  began  to  bristle 
like  one  of  the  terriers  of  his  own  native  mountains,  and 
sought  but  a  decent  pretext  for  venting  his  displeasure, 
'have  you  the  impudence  to  prevent  the  young  lady's 
servant  from  obeying  her  orders? ' 

There  was  something  in  the  air  and  tone  of  the  young 
soldier  which  seemed  to  argue  that  his  interference  was 
not  likely  to  be  confined  to  mere  expostulation,  and 
which,  if  it  promised  finally  the  advantages  of  a  process 
of  battery  and  deforcement,  would  certainly  commence 
with  the  unpleasant  circumstances  necessary  for  found- 
ing such  a  complaint.  The  legal  officer,  confronted 
with  him  of  the  military,  grasped  with  one  doubtful 
hand  the  greasy  bludgeon  which  was  to  enforce  his  au- 
thority, and  with  the  other  produced  his  short  official 
baton,  tipped  with  silver,  and  having  a  movable  ring 
upon  it.  'Captain  M^Intyre,  sir,  I  have  no  quarrel 
with  you,  but  if  you  interrupt  me  in  my  duty,  I  will 
break  the  wand  of  peace,  and  declare  myself  deforced.' 

'And  who  the  devil  cares,'  said  Hector,  totally  ignor- 
ant of  the  words  of  judicial  action,  'whether  you  declare 


139 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


yourself  divorced  or  married?  And  as  to  breaking  your 
wand,  or  breaking  the  peace,  or  whatever  you  call  it,  all 
I  know  is,  that  I  will  break  your  bones  if  you  prevent 
the  lad  from  harnessing  the  horses  to  obey  his  mistress's 
orders.' 

take  all  who  stand  here  to  witness,'  said  the  mes- 
senger, *  that  I  showed  him  my  blazon  and  explained  my 
character.  "He  that  will  to  Cupar  maun  to  Cupar,"' 
and  he  slid  his  enigmatical  ring  from  one  end  of  the 
baton  to  the  other,  being  the  appropriate  symbol  of  his 
having  been  forcibly  interrupted  in  the  discharge  of 
his  duty. 

Honest  Hector,  better  accustomed  to  the  artillery  of 
the  field  than  to  that  of  the  law,  saw  this  mystical  cere- 
mony with  great  indifference,  and  with  like  unconcern 
beheld  the  messenger  sit  down  to  write  out  an  execu- 
tion of  deforcement.  But  at  this  moment,  to  prevent 
the  well-meaning  hot-headed  Highlander  from  running 
the  risk  of  a  severe  penalty,  the  Antiquary  arrived  puff- 
ing and  blowing,  with  his  handkerchief  crammed  under 
his  hat  and  his  wig  upon  the  end  of  his  stick. 

^What  the  deuce  is  the  matter  here?'  he  exclaimed, 
hastily  adjusting  his  headgear;  have  been  following 
you  in  fear  of  finding  your  idle  loggerhead  knocked 
against  one  rock  or  other,  and  here  I  find  you  parted 
with  your  Bucephalus  and  quarrelling  with  Sweepclean. 
A  messenger.  Hector,  is  a  worse  foe  than  a  phoca, 
whether  it  be  the  phoca  barbata  or  the  phoca  vitulina  of 
your  late  conflict. ' 

— n  the  phoca,  sir,'  said  Hector,  'whether  it  be  the 
one  or  the  other!  I  say  d — n  them  both  particularly! 
I  think  you  would  not  have  me  stand  quietly  by  and 

140 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

see  a  scoundrel  like  this,  because  he  calls  himself  a  king^s 
messenger,  forsooth  —  I  hope  the  king  has  many  better 
for  his  meanest  errands  —  insult  a  young  lady  of  fam- 
ily and  fashion  like  Miss  Wardour? ' 

'Rightly  argued,  Hector,'  said  the  Antiquary;  'but 
the  king,  Uke  other  people,  has  now  and  then  shabby 
errands,  and,  in  your  ear,  must  have  shabby  fellows  to 
do  them.  But  even  supposing  you  unacquainted  with 
the  statutes  of  William  the  Lion  in  which,  capite  quarto, 
versu  quinto,  this  crime  of  deforcement  is  termed  despec- 
tus  domini  regis,  a  contempt,  to  wit,  of  the  king  himself, 
in  whose  name  all  legal  diligence  issues,  could  you  not 
have  inferred,  from  the  information  I  took  so  much 
pains  to  give  you  to-day,  that  those  who  interrupt  offi- 
cers who  come  to  execute  letters  of  caption,  are  tanquam 
participes  criminis  rebellionis  ?  seeing  that  he  who  aids 
a  rebel  is  himself,  quodammodo,  an  accessory  to  rebel- 
lion. But  I'll  bring  you  out  of  the  scrape.' 

He  then  spoke  to  the  messenger,  who,  upon  his  ar- 
rival, had  laid  aside  all  thoughts  of  making  a  good- 
bye job  out  of  the  deforcement,  and  accepted  Mr. 
Oldbuck's  assurances  that  the  horse  and  taxed  cart 
should  be  safely  returned  in  the  course  of  two  or  three 
hours. 

'Very  well,  sir,'  said  the  Antiquary,  'since  you  are 
disposed  to  be  so  civil,  you  shall  have  another  job  in 
your  own  best  way  —  a  little  cast  of  state  politics  —  a 
crime  punishable  per  Legem  Juliam,  Mr.  Sweepclean. 
Hark  thee  hither.' 

And,  after  a  whisper  of  five  minutes,  he  gave  him  a 
slip  of  paper,  on  receiving  which  the  messenger  mounted 
his  horse,  and,  with  one  of  his  assistants,  rode  away 

141 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

pretty  sharply.  The  fellow  who  remained  seemed  to  de- 
lay his  operations  purposely,  proceeded  in  the  rest  of 
his  duty  very  slowly,  and  with  the  caution  and  preci- 
sion of  one  who  feels  himself  overlooked  by  a  skillful 
and  severe  inspector. 

In  the  meantime  Oldbuck,  taking  his  nephew  by  the 
arm,  led  him  into  the  house,  and  they  were  ushered 
into  the  presence  of  Sir  Arthur  Wardour,  who,  in  a  flut- 
tet  between  wounded  pride,  agonised  apprehension,  and 
vain  attempts  to  disguise  both  under  a  show  of  indiffer- 
ence, exhibited  a  spectacle  of  painful  interest. 

'Happy  to  see  you,  Mr.  Oldbuck,  always  happy  to 
see  my  friends  in  fair  weather  or  foul,'  said  the  poor 
Baronet,  struggling  not  for  composure,  but  for  gaiety, 
an  affectation  which  was  strongly  contrasted  by  the 
nervous  and  protracted  grasp  of  his  hand,  and  the  agi- 
tation of  his  whole  demeanour  —  '  I  am  happy  to  see 
you.  You  are  riding,  I  see;  I  hope  in  this  confusion  your 
horses  are  taken  good  care  of:  I  always  like  to  have  my 
friends'  horses  looked  after.  Egad,  they  will  have  all 
my  care  now,  for  you  see  they  are  like  to  leave  me  none 
of  my  own,  he!  he!  he!  —  eh,  Mr.  Oldbuck?' 

This  attempt  at  a  jest  was  attended  by  a  hysterical 
giggle,  which  poor  Sir  Arthur  intended  should  sound  as 
an  indifferent  laugh. 

'You  know  I  never  ride,  Sir  Arthur,'  said  the  Anti- 
quary. 

'I  beg  your  pardon;  but  sure  I  saw  your  nephew  ar- 
rive on  horseback  a  short  time  since.  We  must  look, 
after  officers'  horses,  and  his  was  as  handsome  a  grey 
charger  as  I  have  seen.' 

Sir  Arthur  was  about  to  ring  the  bell,  when  Mr.  Old- 
142 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


buck  said,  ^My  nephew  came  on  your  own  grey  horse, 
Sir  Arthur.' 

^Mine!'  said  the  poor  Baronet,  'mine,  was  it?  then 
the  sun  had  been  in  my  eyes.  Well,  I'm  not  worthy 
having  a  horse  any  longer,  since  I  don't  know  my  own 
when  I  see  him.' 

'Good  Heaven,'  thought  Oldbuck,  'how  is  this  man 
altered  from  the  formal  stolidity  of  his  usual  manner! 
he  grows  wanton  under  adversity;  sed  pereunti  mille 
figum.^  He  then  proceeded  aloud :  ^  Sir  Arthur,  we  must 
necessarily  speak  a  little  on  business.' 

'To  be  sure,'  said  Sir  Arthur;  'but  it  was  so  good 
that  I  should  not  know  the  horse  I  have  ridden  these 
five  years,  ha!  ha!  ha!' 

'Sir  Arthur,'  said  the  Antiquary,  'don't  let  us  waste 
time  which  is  precious;  we  shall  have,  I  hope,  many 
better  seasons  for  jesting;  desipere  in  loco  is  the  maxim 
of  Horace.  I  more  than  suspect  this  has  been  brought 
on  by  the  villainy  of  DousterswiveL' 

'Don't  mention  his  name,  sir!'  said  Sir  Arthur;  and 
his  manner  entirely  changed  from  a  fluttered  affecta- 
tion of  gaiety  to  all  the  agitation  of  fury:  his  eyes  spar- 
kled, his  mouth  foamed,  his  hands  were  clenched; 
Mon't  mention  his  name,  sir,'  he  vociferated,  ^  unless  you 
would  see  me  go  mad  in  your  presence!  That  I  should 
have  been  such  a  miserable  dolt,  such  an  infatuated 
idiot,  such  a  beast  endowed  with  thrice  a  beast's  stu- 
pidity, to  be  led  and  driven  and  spur-galled  by  such  a 
rascal,  and  under  such  ridiculous  pretences.  Mr.  Old- 
buck,  I  could  tear  myself  when  I  think  of  it.' 

'I  only  meant  to  say,'  answered  the  Antiquary,  'that 
this  fellow  is  like  to  meet  his  reward;  and  I  cannot  but 


143, 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


think  we  shall  frighten  something  out  of  him  that  may 
be  of  service  to  you.  He  has  certainly  had  some  unlaw- 
ful correspondence  on  the  other  side  of  the  water/ 

'Has  he?  has  he?  has  he,  indeed?  Then  d — n  the 
household  goods,  horses,  and  so  forth:  I  will  go  to  pri- 
son a  happy  man,  Mr.  Oldbuck.  I  hope  in  Heaven 
there's  a  reasonable  chance  of  his  being  hanged?' 

'Why,  pretty  fair,'  said  Oldbuck,  willing  to  encourage 
this  diversion,  in  hopes  it  might  mitigate  the  feelings 
which  seemed  like  to  overset  the  poor  man's  under- 
standing; 'honester  men  have  stretched  a  rope,  or  the 
law  has  been  sadly  cheated.  But  this  unhappy  busi- 
ness of  yours  —  can  nothing  be  done?  Let  me  see  the 
charge.' 

He  took  the  papers;  and  as  he  read  them  his  counte- 
nance grew  hopelessly  dark  and  disconsolate.  Miss 
Wardour  had  by  this  time  entered  the  apartment,  and 
fixing  her  eyes  on  Mr.  Oldbuck,  as  if  she  meant  to  read 
her  fate  in  his  looks,  easily  perceived,  from  the  change 
in  his  eye  and  the  dropping  of  his  nether  jaw,  how  Httle 
was  to  be  hoped. 

'We  are  then  irremediably  ruined,  Mr.  Oldbuck?* 
said  the  young  lady. 

'Irremediably!  I  hope  not;  but  the  instant  demand 
is  very  large,  and  others  will  doubtless  pour  in.' 

'Ay,  never  doubt  that,  Monkbarns,'  said  Sir  Arthur; 
'where  the  slaughter  is,  the  eagles  will  be  gathered  to- 
gether. I  am  like  a  sheep  which  I  have  seen  fall  down 
a  precipice,  or  drop  down  from  sickness:  if  you  had  not 
seen  a  single  raven  or  hooded  crow  for  a  fortnight  before, 
he  will  not  lie  on  the  heather  ten  minutes  before  half  a 
dozen  will  be  picking  out  his  eyes  (and  he  drew  his 

144 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

hand  over  his  own)  and  tearing  at  his  heart-strings  be- 
fore the  poor  devil  has  time  to  die.  But  that  d — d  long- 
scented  vulture  that  dogged  me  so  long  —  you  have 
got  him  fast,  I  hope? ' 

^Fast  enough,'  said  the  Antiquary;  'the  gentleman 
wished  to  take  the  wings  of  the  morning  and  bolt  in  the 
what  d'  ye  call  it  —  the  coach  and  four  there.  But  he 
would  have  foimd  twigs  limed  for  him  at  Edinburgh. 
As  it  is,  he  never  got  so  far,  for  the  coach  being  over- 
turned —  as  how  could  it  go  safe  with  such  a  Jonah?  — 
he  has  had  an  infernal  tumble,  is  carried  into  a  cottage 
near  Kittlebrig,  and,  to  prevent  all  possibility  of  escape, 
I  have  sent  your  friend,  Sweepclean,  to  bring  him  back 
to  Fairport  in  nomine  regis,  or  to  act  as  his  sick  nurse 
at  Kittlebrig,  as  is  most  fitting.  And  now.  Sir  Arthur, 
permit  me  to  have  some  conversation  with  you  on  the 
present  unpleasant  state  of  your  affairs,  that  we  may 
see  what  can  be  done  for  their  extrication';  and  the 
Antiquary  led  the  way  into  the  Hbrary,  followed  by  the 
unfortunate  gentleman. 

They  had  been  shut  up  together  for  about  two  hours, 
when  Miss  Wardour  interrupted  them,  with  her  cloak 
on  as  if  prepared  for  a  journey.  Her  countenance  was 
very  pale,  yet  expressive  of  the  composure  which  char- 
acterized her  disposition. 

'The  messenger  is  returned,  Mr.  Oldbuck.' 

'Returned!  What  the  devil!  he  has  not  let  the  fellow 
go?' 

'No;  I  understand  he  has  carried  him  to  confinement; 
and  now  he  is  returned  to  attend  my  father,  and  says  he 
can  wait  no  longer.' 

A  loud  wrangling  was  now  heard  on  the  staircase,  in 

6  145 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


which  the  voice  of  Hector  predominated.  ^You  an  offi- 
cer, sir,  and  these  ragamuffins  a  party!  a  parcel  of  beg- 
garly tailor  fellows!  tell  yourselves  off  by  nine,  and  we 
shall  know  your  effective  strength.' 

The  grumbling  voice  of  the  man  of  law  was  then  heard 
indistinctly  muttering  a  reply,  to  which  Hector  retorted, 
'Come,  come,  sir,  this  won't  do;  march  your  party,  as 
you  call  them,  out  of  this  house  directly,  or  I'll  send  you 
and  them  to  the  right  about  presently.' 

'  The  devil  take  Hector,'  said  the  Antiquary,  hasten- 
ing to  the  scene  of  action;  'his  Highland  blood  is  up 
again,  and  we  shall  have  him  fighting  a  duel  with  the 
bailiff.  Come,  Mr.  Sweepclean,  you  must  give  us  a  little 
time;  I  know  you  would  not  wish  to  hurry  Sir  Arthur.' 

'By  no  means,  sir,'  said  the  messenger,  putting  his 
hat  off,  which  he  had  thrown  on  to  testify  defiance  of 
Captain  M'Intyre's  threats;  'but  your  nephew,  sir,  holds 
very  uncivil  language,  and  I  have  borne  too  much  of  it 
already;  and  I  am  not  justified  in  leaving  my  prisoner 
any  longer  after  the  instructions  I  received,  unless  I  am 
to  get  payment  of  the  sums  contained  in  my  diligence.' 
And  he  held  out  the  caption,  pointing  with  the  awful 
truncheon  which  he  held  in  his  right  hand  to  the  formid- 
able line  of  figures  jotted  upon  the  back  thereof. ; 

Hector,  on  the  other  hand,  though  silent  from  respect 
to  his  uncle,  answered  this  gesture  by  shaking  his 
clenched  fist  at  the  messenger,  with  a  frown  of  Highland 
wrath. 

'Foolish  boy,  be  quiet,'  said  Oldbuck, '  and  come  with 
me  into  the  room;  the  man  is  doing  his  miserable  duty, 
and  you  will  only  make  matters  worse  by  opposing  him. 
I  fear.  Sir  Arthur,  you  must  accompany  this  man  to  Fair- 

146 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


port;  there  is  no  help  for  it  in  the  first  instance.  I  will 
accompany  you  to  consult  what  farther  can  be  done. 
My  nephew  will  escort  Miss  Wardour  to  Monkbarns, 
which  I  hope  she  will  make  her  residence  until  these  un- 
pleasant matters  are  settled.' 

*I  go  with  my  father,  Mr.  Oldbuck/  said  Miss  War- 
dour,  firmly;  have  prepared  his  clothes  and  my  own. 
I  suppose  we  shall  have  the  use  of  the  carriage?' 

'Anything  in  reason, madam,'  said  the  messenger;  'I 
have  ordered  it  out,  and  it's  at  the  door.  I  will  go  on 
the  box  with  the  coachman;  I  have  no  desire  to  intrude, 
but  two  of  the  concurrents  must  attend  on  horseback.' 

*I  will  attend  too,'  said  Hector,  and  he  ran  down  to 
secure  a  horse  for  himself. 

*We  must  go  then,'  said  the  Antiquary. 

*To  jail,'  said  the  Baronet,  sighing  involuntarily. 
*And  what  of  that?'  he  resumed,  in  a  tone  affectedly 
cheerful;  'it  is  only  a  house  we  can't  get  out  of,  after  all. 
Suppose  a  fit  of  the  gout,  and  Knockwinnock  would  be 
the  same.  Ay,  ay,  Monkbarns,  we'll  call  it  a  fit  of  the 
gout  without  the  d — d  pain.' 

But  his  eyes  swelled  with  tears  as  he  spoke,  and  his 
faltering  accent  marked  how  much  this  assumed  gaiety 
cost  him.  The  Antiquary  wrung  his  hand,  and,  like  the 
Indian  Banians,  who  drive  the  real  terms  of  an  import- 
ant bargain  by  signs,  while  they  are  apparently  talk- 
ing of  indifferent  matters,  the  hand  of  Sir  Arthur,  by 
its  convulsive  return  of  the  grasp,  expressed  his  sense  of 
gratitude  to  his  friend,  and  the  real  state  of  his  internal 
agony.  They  stepped  slowly  down  the  magnificent  stair- 
case, every  well-known  object  seeming  to  the  unfortun- 
ate father  and  daughter  to  assume  a  more  prominent 

147 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


and  distinct  appearance  than  usual,  as  if  to  press  them- 
selves on  their  notice  for  the  last  time. 

At  the  first  landing-place  Sir  Arthur  made  an  agon- 
ized pause;  and  as  he  observed  the  Antiquary  look  at 
him  anxiously,  he  said  with  assumed  dignity  —  ^Yes, 
Mr.  Oldbuck,  the  descendant  of  an  ancient  line  —  the 
representative  of  Richard  Red-hand  and  Gamelyn  de 
Guardover  —  may  be  pardoned  a  sigh  when  he  leaves 
the  castle  of  his  fathers  thus  poorly  escorted.  When  I 
was  sent  to  the  Tower  with  my  late  father,  in  the  year 
1745,  it  was  upon  a  charge  becoming  our  birth  —  upon 
an  accusation  of  high  treason,  Mr.  Oldbuck.  We  were 
escorted  from  Highgate  by  a  troop  of  Hfe-guards,  and 
committed  upon  a  secretary  of  state's  warrant;  and  now 
here  I  am,  in  my  old  age,  dragged  from  my  household 
by  a  miserable  creature  like  that  (pointing  to  the  mes- 
senger) and  for  a  paltry  concern  of  pounds,  shillings, 
and  pence.' 

^At  least,'  said  Oldbuck,  *you  have  now  the  company 
of  a  dutiful  daughter  and  a  sincere  friend,  if  you  will 
permit  me  to  say  so,  and  that  may  be  some  consolation, 
even  without  the  certainty  that  there  can  be  no  hanging, 
drawing,  or  quartering  on  the  present  occasion.  But  I 
hear  that  choleric  boy  as  loud  as  ever.  I  hope  to  God 
he  has  got  into  no  new  broil!  It  was  an  accursed  chance 
that  brought  him  here  at  all.' 

In  fact,  a  sudden  clamour,  in  which  the  loud  voice 
and  somewhat  northern  accent  of  Hector  were  again 
preeminently  distinguished,  broke  off  this  conversation. 
The  cause  we  must  refer  to  the  next  chapter. 


CHAPTER  XLIII 


Fortune,  you  say,  flies  from  us.  She  but  circles, 
Like  the  fleet  sea-bird  round  the  fowler's  skiff, 
Lost  in  the  mist  one  moment,  and  the  next 
Brushing  the  white  sail  with  her  whiter  wing, 
As  if  to  court  the  aim.  Experience  watches. 
And  has  her  on  the  wheel. - 

Old  Play, 

The  shout  of  triumph  in  Hector's  wariike  tones  was  not 
easily  distinguished  from  that  of  battle.  But  as  he 
rushed  upstairs  with  a  packet  in  his  hand,  exclaiming, 
*Long  life  to  an  old  soldier!  here  comes  Edie  with  a  whole 
budget  of  good  news!'  it  became  obvious  that  his  present 
cause  of  clamour  was  of  an  agreeable  nature.  He  de- 
livered the  letter  to  Oldbuck,  shook  Sir  Arthur  heartily 
by  the  hand,  and  wished  Miss  Wardour  joy,  with  all  the 
frankness  of  Highland  congratulation.  The  messenger, 
who  had  a  kind  of  instinctive  terror  for  Captain  MTn- 
tyre,  drew  towards  his  prisoner,  keeping  an  eye  of  cau- 
tion on  the  soldier's  motions. 

^  Don't  suppose  I  shall  trouble  myself  about  you,  you 
dirty  fellow,'  said  the  soldier.  'There 's  a  guinea  for  the 
fright  I  have  given  you;  and  here  comes  an  old  Forty- 
Two  man,  who  is  a  fitter  match  for  you  than  I  am.' 

The  messenger  (one  of  those  dogs  who  are  not  too 
scornful  to  eat  dirty  puddings)  caught  in  his  hand  the 
guinea  which  Hector  chucked  at  his  face,  and  abode 
warily  and  carefully  the  turn  which  matters  were  now  to 
take.  All  voices  meanwhile  were  loud  in  inquiries,  which 
no  one  was  in  a  hurry  to  answer. 

149 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


'What  is  the  matter,  Captain  M'Intyre?'  said  Sir 
Arthur. 

^Ask  old  Edie/  said  Hector;  *I  only  know  all's  safe 
and  well.' 

*What  is  all  this,  Edie?'  said  Miss  Wardour  to  the 
mendicant. 

*  Your  leddyship  maun  ask  Monkbarns,  for  he  has  got- 
ten the  yepistolary  correspondensh.' 

^God  save  the  king!'  exclaimed  the  Antiquary,  at  the 
first  glance  at  the  contents  of  his  packet,  and,  surprised 
at  once  out  of  decorum,  philosophy,  and  phlegm,  he 
skimmed  his  cocked  hat  in  the  air,  from  which  it  de- 
scended not  again,  being  caught  in  its  fall  by  a  branch  of 
the  chandelier.  He  next,  looking  joyously  round,  laid  a 
grasp  on  his  wig,  which  he  perhaps  would  have  sent  after 
the  beaver,  had  not  Edie  stopped  his  hand,  exclaiming, 
^Lordsake!  he 's  gaun  gyte;  mind  Caxon 's  no  here  to  re- 
pair the  damage.' 

Every  person  now  assailed  the  Antiquary,  clamouring 
to  know  the  cause  of  so  sudden  a  transport,  when,  some- 
what ashamed  of  his  rapture,  he  fairly  turned  tail,  like  a 
fox  at  the  cry  of  a  pack  of  hounds,  and,  ascending  the 
stair  by  two  steps  at  a  time,  gained  the  upper  landing- 
place,  where,  turning  round,  he  addressed  the  astonished 
audience  as  follows:  — 

'My  good  iriends J  favete  Unguis.  To  give  you  informa- 
tion, I  must  first,  according  to  logicians,  be  possessed  of 
it  myself;  and  therefore,  with  your  leaves,  I  will  retire 
into  the  library  to  examine  these  papers.  Sir  Arthur  and 
Miss  Wardour  will  have  the  goodness  to  step  into  the 
parlour;  Mr.  Sweepclean,  secede  paulisper,  or,  in  your 
own  language,  grant  us  a  supersedere  of  diligence  for  five 

150 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

minutes.  Hector,  draw  off  your  forces  and  make  your 
bear-garden  flourish  elsewhere;  and,  finally,  be  all  of 
good  cheer  till  my  return,  which  will  be  instanter,^ 

The  contents  of  the  packet  were  indeed  so  little  ex- 
pected that  the  Antiquary  might  be  pardoned,  first  his 
ecstasy,  and  next  his  desire  of  delaying  to  communicate 
the  intelligence  they  conveyed,  until  it  was  arranged  and 
digested  in  his  own  mind. 

Within  the  envelope  was  a  letter  addressed  to  Jona- 
than Oldbuck,  Esq.,  of  Monkbarns,  of  the  following 
purport:  — 

'Dear  Sir,  — To  you,  as  my  father's  proved  and  val- 
ued friend,  I  venture  to  address  myself,  being  detained 
here  by  military  duty  of  a  very  pressing  nature.  You 
must  by  this  time  be  acquainted  with  the  entangled 
state  of  our  affairs;  and  I  know  it  will  give  you  great 
pleasure  to  learn  that  I  am  as  fortunately  as  unexpect- 
edly placed  in  a  situation  to  give  effectual  assistance 
for  extricating  them.  I  understand  Sir  Arthur  is  threat- 
ened with  severe  measures  by  persons  who  acted  form- 
erly as  his  agents;  and,  by  advice  of  a  creditable  man 
of  business  here,  I  have  procured  the  inclosed  writing, 
which  I  understand  will  stop  their  proceedings  until 
their  claim  shall  be  legally  discussed  and  brought 
down  to  its  proper  amount.  I  also  inclose  bills  to  the 
amount  of  one  thousand  pounds  to  pay  any  other 
pressing  demands,  and  request  of  your  friendship  to 
apply  them  according  to  your  discretion.  You  will  be 
surprised  I  give  you  this  trouble,  when  it  would  seem 
more  natural  to  address  my  father  directly  in  his  own 
affairs.  But  I  have  yet  had  no  assurance  that  his  eyes 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


are  opened  to  the  character  of  a  person  against  whom 
you  have  often,  I  know,  warned  him,  and  whose  bane- 
ful influence  has  been  the  occasion  of  these  distresses. 
And  as  I  owe  the  means  of  relieving  Sir  Arthur  to 
the  generosity  of  a  matchless  friend,  it  is  my  duty 
to  take  the  most  certain  measures  for  the  supplies 
being  devoted  to  the  purpose  for  which  they  were  des- 
tined, and  I  know  your  wisdom  and  kindness  will  see 
that  it  is  done.  My  friend,  as  he  claims  an  interest  in 
your  regard,  will  explain  some  views  of  his  own  in  the 
inclosed  letter.  The  state  of  the  post-office  at  Fairport 
being  rather  notorious,  I  must  send  this  letter  to  Tan- 
nonburgh;  but  the  old  man  Ochiltree,  whom  particular 
circumstances  have  recommended  as  trustworthy,  has 
information  when  the  packet  is  likely  to  reach  that 
place,  and  will  take  care  to  forward  it.  I  expect  to  have 
soon  an  opportunity  to  apologise  in  person  for  the  trou- 
ble I  now  give,  and  have  the  honour  to  be  your  very 
faithful  servant, 

'Reginald  Gamelyn  Wardour* 

'Edinburgh,  6th  August,  179-.* 

The  Antiquary  hastily  broke  the  seal  of  the  inclosure, 
the  contents  of  which  gave  him  equal  surprise  and  pleas- 
ure. When  he  had  in  some  measure  composed  himself 
after  such  unexpected  tidings,  he  inspected  the  other 
papers  carefully,  which  all  related  to  business;  put  the 
bills  into  his  pocket-book,  and  wrote  a  short  acknow- 
ledgment to  be  despatched  by  that  day's  post,  for  he 
was  extremely  methodical  in  money  matters;  and^ 
lastly,  fraught  with  all  the  importance  of  disclosure,  he 
descended  to  the  parlour. 

152 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

/  Sweepclean/  said  he,  as  he  entered,  to  the  officer, 
who  stood  respectfully  at  the  door,  ^you  must  sweep 
yourself  clean  out  of  Knockwinnock  Castle  with  all 
your  followers,  tag-rag  and  bob-tail.  See'st  thou  this 
paper,  man?' 

^A  sist  on  a  bill  o'  suspension,'  said  the  messenger, 
with  a  disappointed  look; '  I  thought  it  would  be  a  queer 
thing  if  ultimate  diligence  was  to  be  done  against  sic  a 
gentleman  as  Sir  Arthur.  Weel,  sir,  I  'se  go  my  ways 
with  my  party.  And  who 's  to  pay  my  charges?' 

'They  who  employed  thee,'  replied  Oldbuck,  *as  thou 
full  well  dost  know.  But  here  comes  another  express: 
this  is  a  day  of  news,  I  think.' 

This  was  Mr.  Mailsetter  on  his  mare  from  Fairport, 
with  a  letter  for  Sir  Arthur,  another  to  the  messenger, 
both  of  which,  he  said,  he  was  directed  to  forward  in- 
stantly. The  messenger  opened  his,  observing  that 
Greenhorn  and  Grinderson  were  good  enough  men  for 
his  expenses,  and  here  was  a  letter  from  them  desiring 
him  to  stop  the  diligence.  Accordingly,  he  immediately 
left  the  apartment,  and,  sta5dng  no  longer  than  to  gather 
his  posse  together,  he  did  then,  in  the  phrase  of  Hector, 
who  watched  his  departure  as  a  jealous  mastiff  eyes  the 
retreat  of  a  repulsed  beggar,  evacuate  Flanders. 

Sir  Arthur's  letter  was  from  Mr.  Greenhorn,  and  a 
curiosity  in  its  way.  We  give  it,  with  the  worthy 
Baronet's  comments:  — 

^SiR  —  [Oh!  I  am  dear  sir  no  longer;  folks  are  only 
dear  to  Messrs.  Greenhorn  and  Grinderson  when  they 
are  in  adversity]  —  Sir,  I  am  much  concerned  to  learn, 
on  my  return  from  the  country,  where  I  was  called  on 

IS3 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

particular  business  [a  bet  on  the  sweepstakes,  I  suppose], 
that  my  partner  had  the  impropriety,  in  my  absence, 
to  undertake  the  concerns  of  Messrs.  Goldiebirds  in 
preference  to  yours,  and  had  written  to  you  in  an  un- 
becoming manner.  I  beg  to  make  my  most  humble 
apology,  as  well  as  Mr.  Grinderson's  [come,  I  see  he  can 
write  for  himself  and  partner  too],  and  trust  it  is  im- 
possible you  can  think  me  forgetful  of,  or  ungrateful  for, 
the  constant  patronage  which  my  family  [his  family! 
curse  him  for  a  puppy!]  have  uniformly  experienced 
from  that  of  Knockwinnock.  I  am  sorry  to  find,  from 
an  interview  I  had  this  day  with  Mr.  Wardour,  that  he 
is  much  irritated,  and,  I  must  own,  with  apparent  rea- 
son. But,  in  order  to  remedy  as  much  as  in  me  Hes  the 
mistake  of  which  he  complains  [pretty  mistake,  indeed ! 
to  clap  his  patron  into  jail],  I  have  sent  this  express  to 
discharge  all  proceedings  against  your  person  or  pro- 
perty; and  at  the  same  time  to  transmit  my  respectful 
apology.  I  have  only  to  add,  that  Mr.  Grinderson  is  of 
opinion  that,  if  restored  to  your  confidence,  he  could 
point  out  circumstances  connected  with  Messrs.  Goldie- 
birds' present  claim  which  would  greatly  reduce  its 
amount  [so,  so,  willing  to  play  the  rogue  on  either  side]; 
and  that  there  is  not  the  slightest  hurry  in  settling  the 
balance  of  your  accompt  with  us;  and  that  I  am,  for  Mr. 
G.  as  well  as  myself.  Dear  Sir  [0,  ay  he  has  written  him- 
self into  an  approach  to  famiharity],  your  much  obhged 
and  most  hmnble  servant, 

Gilbert  Greenhorn.' 

^Well  said,  Mr.  Gilbert  Greenhorn,'  said  Monk- 
barns.  *  I  see  now  there  is  some  use  in  having  two  at-^ 

154 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

torneys  in  one  firm.  Their  movements  resemble  those 
of  the  man  and  woman  in  a  Dutch  baby-house.  When 
it  is  fair  weather  with  the  dient,  out  comes  the  gentle- 
man partner  to  fawn  like  a  spaniel;  when  it  is  foul,  forth 
bolts  the  operative  brother  to  pin  Hke  a  bulldog.  Well, 
I  thank  God  that  my  man  of  business  still  wears  an 
equilateral  cocked  hat,  has  a  house  in  the  Old  Town,  is 
as  much  afraid  of  a  horse  as  I  am  myself,  plays  at  golf 
of  a  Saturday,  goes  to  the  kirk  of  a  Sunday,  and,  in 
respect  he  has  no  partner,  hath  only  his  own  folly  to 
apologise  for.' 

'There  are  some  writers  very  honest  fellows,'  said 
Hector;  'I  should  like  to  hear  any  one  say  that  my 
cousin,  Donald  M'Intyre,  Strathtudlem's  seventh  son 
—  the  other  six  are  in  the  army  —  is  not  as  honest  a 
fellow—' 

'No  doubt,  no  doubt,  Hector;  all  the  M'Intyres  are 
so;  they  have  it  by  patent,  man.  But  I  was  going  to  say 
that  in  a  profession  where  unbounded  trust  is  necessarily 
reposed,  there  is  nothing  surprising  that  fools  should 
neglect  it  in  their  idleness  and  tricksters  abuse  it  in  their 
knavery.  But  it  is  the  more  to  the  honour  of  those  — 
and  I  will  vouch  for  many  —  who  unite  integrity  with 
skill  and  attention,  and  walk  honourably  upright  where 
there  are  so  many  pitfalls  and  stumbling-blocks  for 
those  of  a  different  character.  To  such  men  their  fel- 
low-citizens may  safely  entrust  the  care  of  protecting 
their  patrimonial  rights,  and  their  country  the  more 
sacred  charge  of  her  laws  and  privileges.' 

'They  are  best  off,  however,  that  hae  least  to  do  with 
them,'  said  Ochiltree,  who  had  stretched  his  neck  into 
the  parlour  door;  for  the  general  confusion  of  the  fam- 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


ily  not  having  yet  subsided,  the  domestics,  like  waves 
after  the  fall  of  a  hurricane,  had  not  yet  exactly  re- 
gained their  due  limits,  but  were  roaming  wildly  through 
the  house. 

^^^Aha,  old  truepenny,  art  thou  there?"'  said  the 
Antiquary.  *  Sir  Arthur,  let  me  bring  in  the  messenger 
of  good  luck,  though  he  is  but  a  lame  one.  You  talked 
of  the  raven  that  scented  out  the  slaughter  from  afar; 
but  here 's  a  blue  pigeon  —  somewhat  of  the  oldest  and 
toughest,  I  grant  —  who  smelled  the  good  news  six  or 
seven  miles  off,  flew  thither  in  the  taxed  cart,  and  re- 
turned with  the  olive  branch.* 

^Ye  owe  it  a'  to  puir  Robie  that  drave  me;  puir  fal- 
low,' said  the  beggar,  'he  doubts  he's  in  disgrace  wi' 
my  leddy  and  Sir  Arthur.' 

Robert's  repentant  and  bashful  face  was  seen  over 
the  mendicant's  shoulder. 

'In  disgrace  with  me!'  said  Sir  Arthur,  'how  so?'  for 
the  irritation  into  which  he  had  worked  himself  on  oc- 
casion of  the  toast  had  been  long  forgotten.  '0,  I  re- 
collect. Robert,  I  was  angry,  and  you  were  wrong;  go 
about  your  work,  and  never  answer  a  master  that 
speaks  to  you  in  a  passion.' 

'Nor  any  one  else,'  said  the  Antiquary;  'for  "A  soft 
answer  turneth  away  wrath."' 

'And  tell  your  mother,  who  is  so  ill  with  the  rheu- 
matism, to  come  down  to  the  housekeeper  to-morrow,' 
said  Miss  Wardour,  'and  we  will  see  what  can  be  of 
service  to  her.' 

*God  bless  your  leddyship,'  said  poor  Robert,  'and 
his  honour  Sir  Arthur,  and  the  young  laird,  and  the 
house  of  Knockwinnock  in  a'  its  branches,  far  and  near; 

156 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


it's  been  a  kind  and  a  gude  house  to  the  puir  this  mony 
hundred  years.' 

'There,'  said  the  Antiquary  to  Sir  Arthur,  'we  won't 
dispute;  but  there  you  see  the  gratitude  of  the  poor 
people  naturally  turns  to  the  civil  virtues  of  your  fam- 
ily. You  don't  hear  them  talk  of  Red-hand,  or  Hell- 
in-Harness.  For  me  I  must  say,  Odi  accipitrem  qui  sem- 
per vivit  in  armis ;  so  let  us  eat  and  drink  in  peace,  and 
be  joyful.  Sir  Knight.' 

A  table  was  quickly  covered  in  the  parlour,  where 
the  party  sat  joyously  down  to  some  refreshment.  At 
the  request  of  Oldbuck,  Edie  Ochiltree  was  permitted 
to  sit  by  the  sideboard  in  a  great  leathern  chair,  which 
was  placed  in  some  measure  behind  a  screen. 

'I  accede  to  this  the  more  readily,'  said  Sir  Arthur, 
'because  I  remember  in  my  father's  days  that  chair  was 
occupied  by  Ailshie  Gourley,  who,  for  aught  I  know,  was 
the  last  privileged  fool  or  jester  maintained  by  any  fam- 
ily of  distinction  in  Scotland.' 

'Aweel,  Sir  Arthur,'  repKed  the  beggar,  who  never 
hesitated  an  instant  between  his  friend  and  his  jest, 
'mony  a  wise  man  sits  in  a  fule's  seat,  and  mony  a  fule 
in  a  wise  man's,  especially  in  families  o'  distinction.' 

Miss  Wardour,  fearing  the  effect  of  this  speech  (how- 
ever worthy  of  Ailshie  Gourley  or  any  other  privileged 
jester)  upon  the  nerves  of  her  father,  hastened  to  in- 
quire whether  ale  and  beef  should  not  be  distributed  to 
the  servants  and  people  whom  the  news  had  assembled 
around  the  Castle. 

'Surely,  my  love,'  said  her  father;  'when  was  it  ever 
otherwise  in  our  families  when  a  siege  had  been  raised? ' 

'Ay,  a  siege  laid  by  Saunders  Sweepclean,  the  bailiflf, 

157 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


and  raised  by  Edie  Ochiltree,  the  gaberlunzie,  par  nobile 
fratrum'  said  Oldbuck,  *and  well  pitted  against  each 
other  in  respectability.  But  never  mind,  Sir  Arthur, 
these  are  such  sieges  and  such  reliefs  as  our  time  of  day 
admits  of,  and  our  escape  is  not  less  worth  commemo- 
rating in  a  glass  of  this  excellent  wine.  Upon  my  credit, 
it  is  Burgundy,  I  think.' 

'Were  there  anything  better  in  the  cellar,'  said  Miss 
Wardour,  'it  would  be  all  too  little  to  regale  you  after 
your  friendly  exertions.' 

'Say  you  so?'  said  the  Antiquary;  'why,  then,  a  cup 
of  thanks  to  you,  my  fair  enemy,  and  soon  may  you  be 
besieged  as  ladies  love  best  to  be,  and  sign  terms  of 
capitulation  in  the  chapel  of  Saint  Winnox.' 

Miss  Wardour  blushed;  Hector  coloured  and  then 
grew  pale. 

Sir  Arthur  answered, '  My  daughter  is  much  obliged  to 
you,  Monkbarns;  but,  unless  you'll  accept  of  her  your- 
self, I  really  do  not  know  where  a  poor  knight's  daughter 
is  to  seek  for  an  alliance  in  these  mercenary  times.' 

*  Me,  mean  ye.  Sir  Arthur?  No,  not  I;  I  will  claim  the 
privilege  of  the  duello,  and,  as  being  unable  to  encoun- 
ter my  fair  enemy  myself,  I  will  appear  by  my  cham- 
pion. But  of  this  matter  hereafter.  What  do  you  find 
in  the  papers  there.  Hector,  that  you  hold  your  head 
down  over  them  as  if  your  nose  were  bleeding?' 

'Nothing  particular,  sir;  but  only  that,  as  my  arm  is 
now  almost  quite  well,  I  think  I  shall  relieve  you  of  my 
company  in  a  day  or  two,  and  go  to  Edinburgh.  I  see 
Major  Neville  is  arrived  there.  I  should  like  to  see  him.' 

'Major  whom?'  said  his  uncle. 

'Major  Neville,  sir,'  answered  the  young  soldier. 

is8 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


'And  who  the  devil  is  Major  Neville?'  demanded  the 
Antiquary. 

'O,  Mr.  Oldbuck/  said  Sir  Arthur,  ^you  must  remem- 
ber his  name  frequently  in  the  newspapers,  a  very  dis- 
tinguished young  officer  indeed.  But  I  am  happy  to  say 
that  Mr.  MTntyre  need  not  leave  Monkbarns  to  see  him, 
for  my  son  writes  that  the  Major  is  to  come  with  him  to 
Knockwinnock,  and  I  need  not  say  how  happy  I  shall 
be  to  make  the  young  gentlemen  acquainted  —  unless, 
indeed,  they  are  known  to  each  other  already.' 

^No,  not  personally,'  answered  Hector;  *but  I  have 
had  occasion  to  hear  a  good  deal  of  him,  and  we  have 
several  mutual  friends,  your  son  being  one  of  them.  But 
I  must  go  to  Edinburgh,  for  I  see  my  uncle  is  beginning 
to  grow  tired  of  me,  and  I  am  afraid  — ' 

'That  you  will  grow  tired  of  him?'  interrupted  Old- 
buck.  'I  fear  that's  past  praying  for.  But  you  have 
forgotten  that  the  ecstatic  twelfth  of  August  approaches 
and  that  you  are  engaged  to  meet  one  of  Lord  Glenal- 
lan's  gamekeepers,  God  knows  where,  to  persecute  the 
peaceful  feathered  creation.' 

'True,  true,  uncle,  I  had  forgot  that,'  exclaimed  the 
volatile  Hector;  ^but  you  said  something  just  now  that 
put  everything  out  of  my  head.' 

'An  it  like  your  honours,'  said  old  Edie,  thrusting  his 
white  head  from  behind  the  screen,  where  he  had  been 
plentifully  regaling  himself  with  ale  and  cold  meat  — 
'an  it  Kke  your  honours,  I  can  tell  ye  something  that 
will  keep  the  Captain  wi'  us  amaist  as  weel  as  the  pout- 
ing. Hear  ye  na  the  French  are  coming? ' 

'The  French,  you  blockhead!'  answered  Oldbuck. 
'Bah!' 

IS9 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


have  not  had  time/  said  Sir  Arthur  Wardour,  ^to 
look  over  my  lieutenancy  correspondence  for  the  week 
—  indeed,  I  generally  make  a  rule  to  read  it  only  on 
Wednesdays,  except  in  pressing  cases,  for  I  do  every- 
thing by  method;  but  from  the  glance  I  took  of  my  let- 
ters I  observed  some  alarm  was  entertained/ 

^ Alarm!'  said  Edie;  Hroth  there's  alarm;  for  the  pro- 
vost's gar'd  the  beacon  light  on  the  Halket  Head  be 
sorted  up  —  that  suld  hae  been  sorted  half  a  year  syne  — 
in  an  unco  hurry,  and  the  council  hae  named  nae  less  a 
man  than  auld  Caxon  himsell  to  watch  the  light.  Some 
say  it  was  out  o'  compliment  to  Lieutenant  Taffril,  for 
its'  neist  to  certain  that  he'll  marry  Jenny  Caxon;  some 
say  it's  to  please  your  honour  and  Monkbarns,  that 
wear  wigs;  and  some  say  there's  some  auld  story  about 
a  periwig  that  ane  o'  the  bailies  got  and  ne  'er  paid  for. 
Ony  way,  there  he  is,  sitting  cockit  up  like  a  skart  upon 
the  tap  o'  the  craig,  to  skirl  when  foul  weather  comes/ 

'On  mine  honour,  a  pretty  warder,'  said  Monkbarns; 
'and  what's  my  wig  to  do  all  the  while?' 

'I  asked  Caxon  that  very  question,'  answered  Ochil- 
tree, 'and  he  said  he  could  look  in  ilka  morning  and 
gie't  a  touch  afore  he  gaed  to  his  bed,  for  there's  an- 
other man  to  watch  in  the  daytime,  and  Caxon  says  he  '11 
frizz  your  honour's  wig  as  weel  sleeping  as  wauking.' 

This  news  gave  a  diflferent  turn  to  the  conversation, 
which  ran  upon  national  defence,  and  the  duty  of  fight- 
ing for  the  land  we  live  in,  until  it  was  time  to  part.  The 
Antiquary  and  his  nephew  resumed  their  walk  home- 
ward, after  parting  from  Knockwinnock  with  the  warm- 
est expressions  of  mutual  regard,  and  an  agreement  to 
meet  again  as  soon  as  possible. 


CHAPTER  XLIV 


Nay,  if  she  love  me  not,  I  care  not  for  her:  ^ 
Shall  I  look  pale  because  the  maiden  blooms? 
Or  sigh  because  she  smiles,  and  smiles  on  others? 
Not  I,  by  Heaven!  I  hold  my  peace  too  dear. 
To  let  it,  like  the  plume  upon  her  cap. 
Shake  at  each  nod  that  her  caprice  shall  dictate. 

Old  Play. 

*  Hector/  said  his  uncle  to  Captain  M'Intyre,  in  the 
course  of  their  walk  homeward,  'I  am  sometimes  in- 
clined to  suspect  that  in  one  respect  you  are  a  fool/ 

*If  you  only  think  me  so  in  one  respect,  sir,  I  am  sure 
you  do  me  more  grace  than  I  expected  or  deserve/ 

*I  mean  in  one  particular  par  excellence/  answered 
the  Antiquary.  have  sometimes  thought  that  you 
have  cast  your  eyes  upon  Miss  Wardour.' 

*Well,  sir,'  said  M'Intyre,  with  much  composure. 

^Well,  sir!'  echoed  his  uncle.  ^ Deuce  take  the  fellow, 
he  answers  me  as  if  it  were  the  most  reasonable  thing 
in  the  world  that  he,  a  captain  in  the  army,  and 
nothing  at  all  besides,  should  marry  the  daughter  of 
a  baronet.' 

*I  presume  to  think,  sir,'  said  the  young  Highlander, 
'  there  would  be  no  degradation  on  Miss  Wardour's  part 
in  point  of  family.' 

'O,  Heaven  forbid  we  should  come  on  that  topic! 
No,  no,  equal  both,  both  on  the  table-land  of  gentility, 
and  qualified  to  look  down  on  every  roturier  in  Scot- 
land.' 

^And  in  point  of  fortune  we  are  pretty  even,  since 
6  i6i 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


neither  of  us  have  got  any/  continued  Hector.  'There 
may  be  an  error,  but  I  cannot  plead  guilty  to  presump- 
tion.' 

'But  here  lies  the  error,  then,  if  you  call  it  so/  re- 
plied his  uncle;  'she  won't  have  you,  Hector.' 
*  Indeed,  sir?' 

'It  is  very  sure,  Hector;  and  to  make  it  double  sure 
I  must  inform  you  that  she  likes  another  man.  She 
misunderstood  some  words  I  once  said  to  her,  and  I 
have  since  been  able  to  guess  at  the  interpretation  she 
put  on  them.  At  the  time  I  was  unable  to  account  for 
her  hesitation  and  blushing;  but,  my  poor  Hector,  I 
now  understand  them  as  a  death-signal  to  your  hopes 
and  pretensions.  So  I  advise  you  to  beat  your  retreat, 
and  draw  off  your  forces  as  well  as  you  can,  for  the  fort 
is  too  well  garrisoned  for  you  to  storm  it.' 

'I  have  no  occasion  to  beat  any  retreat,  uncle,'  said 
Hector,  holding  himself  very  upright,  and  marching 
with  a  sort  of  dogged  and  offended  solemnity;  'no  man 
needs  to  retreat  that  has  never  advanced.  There  are 
women  in  Scotland  besides  Miss  Wardour,  of  as  good 
family  — ' 

'And  better  taste,'  said  his  uncle.  'Doubtless  there 
are.  Hector;  and,  though  I  cannot  say  but  that  she  is 
one  of  the  most  accomplished  as  well  as  sensible  girls  I 
have  seen,  yet  I  doubt  much  of  her  merit  would  be  cast 
away  on  you.  A  showy  figure,  now,  with  two  cross 
feathers  above  her  noddle  —  one  green,  one  blue;  who 
would  wear  a  riding-habit  of  the  regimental  complexion, 
and  drive  a  gig  one  day,  and  the  next  review  the  regi- 
ment on  the  grey  trotting  pony  which  dragged  that  ve- 
hicle, hoc  erat  in  votis  —  these  are  the  qualities  that 

162 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

would  subdue  you,  especially  if  she  had  a  taste  for  na- 
tural  history,  and  loved  a  specimen  of  a  phoca? 

'It's  a  little  hard,  sir,'  said  Hector,  'I  must  have  that 
cursed  seal  thrown  into  my  face  on  all  occasions;  but  I 
care  little  about  it,  and  I  shall  not  break  my  heart  for 
Miss  Wardour.  She  is  free  to  choose  for  herself,  and  I 
wish  her  all  happiness.' 

^  Magnanimously  resolved,  thou  prop  of  Troy!  Why, 
Hector,  I  was  afraid  of  a  scene.  Your  sister  told  me 
you  were  desperately  in  love  with  Miss  Wardour.' 

*Sir,'  answered  the  young  man,  'you  would  not  have 
me  desperately  in  love  with  a  woman  that  does  not  care 
about  me? ' 

'Well,  nephew,'  said  the  Antiquary,  more  seriously, 
'there  is  doubtless  much  sense  in  what  you  say;  yet  I 
would  have  given  a  great  deal,  some  twenty  or  twenty- 
five  years  since,  to  have  been  able  to  think  as  you  do.' 

'Anybody,  I  suppose,  may  think  as  they  please  on 
such  subjects,'  said  Hector. 

'Not  according  to  the  old  school,'  saidOldbuck;  'but, 
as  I  said  before,  the  practice  of  the  modern  seems  in  this 
case  the  most  prudential,  though  I  think  scarcely  the 
most  interesting.  But  tell  me  your  ideas  now  on  this 
prevailing  subject  of  an  invasion.  The  cry  is  still,  They 
come.' 

Hector,  swallowing  his  mortification,  which  he  was 
peculiarly  anxious  to  conceal  from  his  uncle's  satirical 
observation,  readily  entered  into  a  conversation  which 
was  to  turn  the  Antiquary's  thoughts  from  Miss  War- 
dour and  the  seal.  When  they  reached  Monkbarns,  the 
communicating  to  the  ladies  the  events  which  had  taken 
place  at  the  Castle,  with  the  counter-information  of 

163 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


how  long  dinner  had  waited  before  the  womankind  had 
ventured  to  eat  it  in  the  Antiquary's  absence,  averted 
these  delicate  topics  of  discussion. 

The  next  morning  the  Antiquary  arose  early,  and,  as 
Caxon  had  not  yet  made  his  appearance,  he  began 
mentally  to  feel  the  absence  of  the  petty  news  and  small 
talk,  of  which  the  ex-perruquier  was  a  faithful  reporter, 
and  which  habit  had  made  as  necessary  to  the  Anti- 
quary as  his  occasional  pinch  of  snuff,  although  he  held, 
or  affected  to  hold,  both  to  be  of  the  same  intrinsic 
value.  The  feeling  of  vacuity  peculiar  to  such  a  depriva- 
tion was  alleviated  by  the  appearance  of  old  Ochiltree 
sauntering  beside  the  clipped  yew  and  holly  hedges,  with 
the  air  of  a  person  quite  at  home.  Indeed,  so  familiar 
had  he  been  of  late,  that  even  Juno  did  not  bark  at  him, 
but  contented  herself  with  watching  him  with  a  close 
and  vigilant  eye.  Our  Antiquary  stepped  out  in  his 
nightgown,  and  instantly  received  and  returned  his 
greeting. 

*  They  are  coming  now  in  good  earnest,  Monkbarns. 
I  just  cam  frae  Fairport  to  bring  ye  the  news,  and  then 
I'll  step  away  back  again;  the  ^'Search"  has  just  come 
into  the  bay,  and  they  say  she's  been  chased  by  a 
French  fleet.' 

'The  "Search"?'  said  Oldbuck,  reflecting  a  moment. 
'Oho!' 

*Ay,  ay,  Captain  Taffril's  gun-brig,  the  "Search."' 
'What!  any  relation  to  "Search  No.  II"?'  said 
Oldbuck,  catching  at  the  light  which  the  name  of  the 
vessel  seemed  to  throw  on  the  mysterious  chest  of 
treasure. 

The  mendicant,  like  a  man  detected  in  a  frolic,  put 
164 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

his  bonnet  before  his  face,  yet  could  not  help  laughing 
heartily.  'The  deil 's  in  you,  Monkbarns,  for  garring 
odds  and  evens  meet.  Wha  thought  ye  wad  hae  laid 
that  and  that  thegither?  Od,  I  am  clean  catch'd  now.' 

'I  see  it  all,'  said  Oldbuck,  'as  plain  as  the  legend  on 
a  medal  of  high  preservation:  the  box  in  which  the  bul- 
lion was  found  belonged  to  the  gun-brig  and  the  treas- 
ure to  my  phoenix? '  (Edie  nodded  assent.)  'And  was 
buried  there  that  Sir  Arthur  might  receive  relief  in  his 
difficulties?' 

'By me/  said  Edie,  'and  twao'  the  brig's  men;  but 
they  didna  ken  its  contents,  and  thought  it  some  bit 
smuggling  concern  o'  the  Captain's.  I  watched  day  and 
night  till  I  saw  it  in  the  right  hand;  and  then,  when  that 
German  deevil  was  glowering  at  the  Hd  o'  the  kist  — 
they  liked  mutton  weel  that  licket  where  the  yowe  lay  — 
I  think  some  Scottish  deevil  put  it  into  my  head  to  play 
him  yon  ither  cantrip.  Now,  ye  see,  if  I  had  said  mair 
or  less  to  Bailie  Littlejohn,  I  behoved  till  hae  come  out 
wi'  a'  this  story;  and  vexed  would  Mr.  Lovel  hae  been 
to  have  it  brought  to  Hght;  sae  I  thought  I  would  stand 
to  ony  thing  rather  than  that.' 

'I  must  say  he  has  chosen  his  confidant  well,'  said 
Oldbuck,  'though  somewhat  strangely.' 

'I'll  say  this  for  mysell,  Monkbarns,'  answered  the 
mendicant, '  that  I  am  the  fittest  man  in  the  haill  coun- 
try to  trust  wi'  siller,  for  I  neither  want  it  nor  wish  for 
it,  nor  could  use  it  if  I  had  it.  But  the  lad  hadna  muckle 
choice  in  the  matter,  for  he  thought  he  was  leaving  the 
country  for  ever  —  I  trust  he 's  mistaen  in  that  though 
—  and  the  night  was  set  in  when  we  learned,  by  a  strange 
chance,  Sir  Arthur's  sair  distress,  and  Lovel  was  obUged 

i6s 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


to  be  on  board  as  the  day  dawned.  But  five  nights  after- 
wards the  brig  stood  into  the  bay,  and  I  met  the  boat 
by  appointment,  and  we  buried  the  treasure  where  ye 
fand  it.' 

'  This  was  a  very  romantic,  foohsh  exploit,'  said  Old- 
buck;  'why  not  trust  me,  or  any  other  friend?' 

'The  blood  o'  your  sister's  son,'  repUed  Edie,  'was  on 
his  hands,  and  him  maybe  dead  outright;  what  time 
had  he  to  take  council?  or  how  could  he  ask  it  of  you, 
by  ony  body?' 

^  You  are  right.  But  what  if  Dousterswivel  had  come 
before  you? ' 

'There  was  Uttle  fear  o'  his  coming  there  without  Sir 
Arthur;  he  had  gotten  a  sair  gliff  the  night  afore,  and 
never  intended  to  look  near  the  place  again,  unless  he 
had  been  brought  there  sting  and  Hng.  He  kend  weel 
the  first  pose  was  o'  his  ain  hiding,  and  how  could  he 
expect  a  second?  He  just  havered  on  about  it  to  make 
the  mair  o'  Sir  Arthur.' 

'Then  how,'  said  Oldbuck,  *  should  Sir  Arthur  have 
come  there  unless  the  German  had  brought  him?' 

'Umph!'  answered  Edie,  drily,  'I  had  a  story  about 
Misticot  wad  hae  brought  him  forty  miles,  or  you  either. 
Besides,  it  was  to  be  thought  he  would  be  for  visiting 
the  place  he  fand  the  first  siller  in;  he  kend  na  the  se- 
cret o'  that  job.  In  short,  the  siller  being  in  this  shape, 
Sir  Arthur  in  utter  difficulties,  and  Lovel  determined 
he  should  never  ken  the  hand  that  helped  him  —  for 
that  was  what  he  insisted  maist  upon  —  we  couldna 
think  o'  a  better  way  to  fling  the  gear  in  his  gate,  though 
we  simmered  it  and  wintered  it  e'er  sae  lang.  And  if  by 
ony  queer  mischance  Doustercivil  had  got  his  claws 

i66 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

on't,  I  was  instantly  to  hae  informed  you  or  the  sheriff 
the  haill  story.' 

^Well,  notwithstanding  all  these  wise  precautions,  I 
think  your  contrivance  succeeded  better  than  such  a 
clumsy  one  deserved,  Edie.  But  how  the  deuce  came 
Lovel  by  such  a  mass  of  silver  ingots?' 

'That's  just  what  I  canna  tell  ye.  But  they  were 
put  on  board  wi'  his  things  at  Fairport,  it's  like,  and 
we  stowed  them  into  ane  o'  the  ammunition-boxes  o' 
the  brig,  baith  for  concealment  and  convenience  of 
carriage.' 

'Lord!'  said  Oldbuck,  his  recollection  recurring  to 
the  earlier  part  of  his  acquaintance  with  Lovel;  'and 
this  young  fellow,  who  was  putting  hundreds  on  so 
strange  a  hazard  —  I  must  be  recommending  a  sub- 
scription to  him,  and  paying  his  bill  at  the  Ferry!  I 
never  will  pay  any  person's  bill  again,  that's  certain. 
And  you  kept  up  a  constant  correspondence  with  Level, 
I  suppose  ? ' 

'I  just  gat  ae  bit  scrape  o'  a  pen  frae  him,  to  say  there 
wad,  as  yesterday  fell,  be  a  packet  at  Tannonburgh,  wi' 
letters  o'  great  consequence  to  the  Knockwinnock  folk; 
for  they  jaloused  the  opening  of  our  letters  at  Fairport. 
And  that's  as  true;  I  hear  Mrs.  Mailsetter  is  to  lose  her 
office  for  looking  after  ither  folks'  business  and  neglect- 
ing her  ain.' 

'  And  what  do  you  expect,  now,  Edie,  for  being  the 
adviser,  and  messenger,  and  guard,  and  confidential 
person  in  all  these  matters?' 

*  Deil  haet  do  I  expect,  excepting  that  a'  the  gentles 
will  come  to  the  gaberlunzie's  burial;  and  maybe  ye '11 
carry  the  head  yoursell,  as  ye  did  puir  Steenie  Muckle- 

167 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


backit's.  What  trouble  was't  to  me?  I  was  ganging 
about  at  ony  rate.  O  but  I  was  blythe  when  I  got  out 
of  prison,  though;  for,  I  thought,  what  if  that  weary 
letter  should  come  when  I  am  closed  up  here  like  an 
oyster,  and  a'  should  gang  wrang  for  want  o't  ?  And 
whiles  I  thought  I  maun  make  a  clean  breast  and  tell 
you  a'  about  it;  but  then  I  couldna  weel  do  that  with- 
out contravening  Mr.  Lovel's  positive  orders,  and  I 
reckon  he  had  to  see  somebody  at  Edinburgh  afore  he 
could  do  what  he  wussed  to  do  for  Sir  Arthur  and  his 
family.' 

'Well,  and  to  your  public  news,  Edie.  So  they  are 
still  coming,  are  they?' 

'Troth,  they  say  sae,  sir;  and  there's  come  down 
strict  orders  for  the  forces  and  volunteers  to  be  alert; 
and  there's  a  clever  young  officer  to  come  here  forth- 
with to  look  at  our  means  o'  defence.  I  saw  the  Bailie's 
lass  cleaning  his  belts  and  white  breeks;  I  gae  her  a 
hand,  for  ye  maun  think  she  wasna  ower  clever  at  it, 
and  sae  I  gat  a'  the  news  for  my  pains.' 

*And  what  think  you,  as  an  old  soldier?' 

'Troth,  I  kenna;  an  they  come  sae  mony  as  they 
speak  o',  they'll  be  odds  against  us.  But  there's  mony 
yauld  chields  amang  thae  volunteers;  and  I  maunna 
say  muckle  about  them  that's  no  weel  and  no  very 
able,  because  I  am  something  that  gate  mysell.  But 
we'se  do  our  best.' 

'What!  so  your  martial  spirit  is  rising  again,  Edie? 

Even  in  our  ashes  glow  their  wonted  fires! 

I  would  not  have  thought  you,  Edie,  had  so  much  to 
fight  for?' 

i68 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


^Meno  muckle  to  fight  for,  sir?  Isna  there  the  coun* 
try  to  fight  for,  and  the  burnsides  that  I  gang  daunder- 
ing  beside,  and  the  hearths  o'  the  gudewives  that  gie 
me  my  bit  bread,  and  the  bits  o'  weans  that  come  tod- 
dling to  play  wi'  me  when  I  come  about  a  landward 
town?  Deil ! '  he  continued,  grasping  his  pikestaff  with 
great  emphasis,  'an  I  had  as  gude  pith  as  I  hae  gude- 
will  and  a  gude  cause,  I  should  gie  some  o'  them  a  day's 
kemping.' 

*  Bravo,  bravo,  Edie!  The  country's  in  little  ulti- 
mate danger  when  the  beggar 's  as  ready  to  fight  for  his 
dish  as  the  laird  for  his  land.' 

Their  further  conversation  reverted  to  the  particu- 
lars of  the  night  passed  by  the  mendicant  and  Lovel  in 
the  ruins  of  Saint  Ruth,  by  the  details  of  which  the  An- 
tiquary was  highly  amused. 

'  I  would  have  given  a  guinea,'  he  said,  *  to  have  seen 
the  scoundrelly  German  under  the  agonies  of  those  ter- 
rors which  it  is  part  of  his  own  quackery  to  inspire  into 
others,  and  trembling  alternately  for  the  fury  of  his 
patron  and  the  apparition  of  some  hobgoblin.' 

'Troth,'  said  the  beggar,  'there  was  time  for  him  to 
be  cowed;  for  ye  wad  hae  thought  the  very  spirit  of  Hell- 
in-Harness  had  taken  possession  o'  the  body  o'  Sir 
Arthur.  But  what  will  come  o'  the  landlouper?' 

'I  have  had  a  letter  this  morning,  from  which  I  un- 
derstand he  has  acquitted  you  of  the  charge  he  brought 
against  you,  and  offers  to  make  such  discoveries  as  will 
render  the  settlement  of  Sir  Arthur's  affairs  a  more 
easy  task  than  we  apprehended.  So  writes  the  sheriff; 
and  adds,  that  he  has  given  some  private  information 
of  importance  to  government,  in  consideration  of  which 

169 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


I  understand  he  will  be  sent  back  to  play  the  knave  in 
his  own  country.' 

'And  a'  the  bonny  engines  and  wheels,  and  the  coves 
and  sheughs,  doun  at  Glen  Withershins  yonder,  what's 
to  come  o'  them?'  said  Edie. 

*I  hope  the  men,  before  they  are  dispersed,  will  make 
a  bonfire  of  their  gimcracks,  as  an  army  destroy  their 
artillery  when  forced  to  raise  a  siege.  And  as  for  the 
holes,  Edie,  I  abandon  them  as  rat-traps,  for  the  bene- 
fit of  the  next  wise  men  who  may  choose  to  drop  the 
substance  to  snatch  at  a  shadow.' 

'Hech,  sirs!  guide  us  aM  to  burn  the  engines?  that's 
a  great  waste.  Had  ye  na  better  try  to  get  back  part 
o'  your  hundred  pounds  wi'  the  sale  o'  the  materials?' 
he  continued,  with  a  tone  of  affected  condolence. 

'Not  a  farthing,'  said  the  Antiquary,  peevishly,  tak- 
ing a  turn  from  him,  and  making  a  step  or  two  away. 
Then  returniqg,  half-smiling  at  his  own  pettishness,  he 
said, '  Get  thee  into  the  house,  Edie,  and  remember  my 
council:  never  speak  to  me  about  a  mine,  or  to  my 
nephew  Hector  about  a  phoca^  that  is  a  sealgh,  as  you 
call  it.' 

'I  maun  be  ganging  my  ways  back  to  Fairport,'  said 
the  wanderer;  'I  want  to  see  what  they're  saying  there 
about  the  invasion;  but  I'll  mind  what  your  honour 
says,  no  to  speak  to  you  about  a  sealgh,  or  to  the  Cap- 
tain about  the  hundred  pounds  that  you  gied  to  Dous- 
ter— ' 

'Confound  thee!  I  desired  thee  not  to  mention  that 
to  me.' 

'Dear  me!'  said  Edie,  with  affected  surprise;  'weel, 
I  thought  there  was  naething  but  what  your  honour 

170 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

could  hae  studden  in  the  way  agreeable  conversation, 
unless  it  was  about  the  praetorian  yonder,  or  the  bodle 
that  the  packman  sauld  to  ye  for  an  auld  coin/ 

*  Pshaw,  pshaw,'  said  the  Antiquary,  turning  from 
him  hastily,  and  retreating  into  the  house. 

The  mendicant  looked  after  him  a  moment,  and  with 
a  chuckling  laugh,  such  as  that  with  which  a  magpie  or 
parrot  applauds  a  successful  exploit  of  mischief,  he  re- 
sumed once  more  the  road  to  Fairport.  His  habits  had 
given  him  a  sort  of  restlessness,  much  increased  by  the 
pleasure  he  took  in  gathering  news;  and  in  a  short  time 
he  had  regained  the  town  which  he  left  in  the  morning, 
for  no  reason  that  he  knew  himself,  imless  just  to  ^hae 
a  bit  crack  wi'  Monkbarns/ 

J  - 


CHAPTER  XLV 


Red  glared  the  beacon  on  Pownell, 

On  Skiddaw  there  were  three; 
The  bugle-horn  on  moor  and  fell 

Was  beard  continually. 

James  Hogg. 

The  watch  who  kept  his  watch  on  the  hill  and  looked 
towards  Birnam  probably  conceived  himself  dreaming 
when  he  first  beheld  the  fated  grove  put  itself  into  mo- 
tion for  its  march  to  Dunsinane.  Even  so  old  Caxon, 
as,  perched  in  his  hut,  he  qualified  his  thoughts  upon 
the  approaching  marriage  of  his  daughter,  and  the  dig- 
nity of  being  father-in-law  to  Lieutenant  Taffril,  with 
an  occasional  peep  towards  the  signal-post  with  which 
his  own  corresponded,  was  not  a  little  surprised  by  ob- 
serving a  light  in  that  direction.  He  rubbed  his  eyes, 
looked  again,  adjusting  his  observation  by  a  cross-staff 
which  had  been  placed  so  as  to  bear  upon  the  point. 
And  behold  the  light  increased,  like  a  comet  to  the  eye 
of  the  astronomer,  *with  fear  of  change  perplexing  na- 
tions.' 

'The  Lord  preserve  us!'  said  Caxon,  'what's  to  be 
done  now?  But  there  will  be  wiser  heads  than  mine  to 
look  to  that,  sae  I  'se  e'en  fire  the  beacon.' 

And  he  lighted  the  beacon  accordingly,  which  threw 
up  to  the  sky  a  long  wavering  train  of  light,  startling 
the  sea-fowl  from  their  nests,  and  reflected  far  beneath 
by  the  reddening  billows  of  the  sea.  The  brother  ward- 
ers of  Caxon  being  equally  diligent,  caught  and  re- 


172 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


peated  his  signal.  The  lights  glanced  on  headlands  and 
capes  and  inland  hills,  and  the  whole  district  was 
alarmed  by  the  signal  of  invasion.^ 

Our  Antiquary,  his  head  wrapped  warm  in  two  double 
night-caps,  was  quietly  enjoying  his  repose,  when  it  was 
suddenly  broken  by  the  screams  of  his  sister,  his  niece, 
and  two  maid-servants. 

'What  the  devil  is  the  matter?'  said  he,  starting  up 
in  his  bed;  'womankind  in  my  room  at  this  hour  of 
night!  are  ye  all  mad?' 

'The  beacon,  uncle!'  said  Miss  MTntyre. 

'The  French  coming  to  murder  us!'  screamed  Miss 
Griselda. 

'The  beacon,  the  beacon!  the  French,  the  French! 
murder,  murder!  and  waur  than  murder!'  cried  the  two 
hand-maidens,  like  the  chorus  of  an  opera. 

'The  French!'  said  Oldbuck,  starting  up.  'Get  out 
of  the  room,  womankind  that  you  are,  till  I  get  my 
things  on.  And,  hark  ye,  bring  ye  my  sword.' 

'Whilk  o'  them,  Monkbarns?'  cried  his  sister, 
offering  a  Roman  falchion  of  brass  with  the  one 
hand,  and  with  the  other  an  Andrea  Ferrara  without 
a  handle. 

'The  langest,  the  langest,'  cried  Jenny  Rintherout, 
dragging  in  a  two-handed  sword  of  the  twelfth  cen- 
tury. 

'Womankind,'  said  Oldbuck,  in  great  agitation,  'be 
composed,  and  do  not  give  way  to  vain  terror.  Are  you 
sure  they  are  come? ' 

'Sure!  sure!'  exclaimed  Jenny  —  'ower  sure!  a'  the 
sea  fencibles  and  the  land  fencibles,  and  the  volunteers 
1  See  Note  4. 
173 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


and  yeomanry,  are  on  fit,  and  driving  to  Fairport  as 
hard  as  horse  and  man  can  gang;  and  auld  Muckle- 
backit 's  gane  wi'  the  lave — muckle  good  he'll  do. 
Hech,  sirs!  he^ll  be  missed  the  morn  wha  wad  hae  served 
king  and  country  weel!' 

^Give  me,'  said  Oldbuck,  Hhe  sword  which  my  father 
wore  in  the  year  forty-five;  it  hath  no  belt  or  baldrick, 
but  we'll  make  shift.' 

So  saying,  he  thrust  the  weapon  through  the  cover 
of  his  breeches  pocket.  At  this  moment  Hector  entered, 
who  had  been  to  a  neighbouring  height  to  ascertain 
whether  the  alarm  was  actual. 

^ Where  are  your  arms,  nephew?'  exclaimed  Old- 
buck;  ^  where  is  your  double-barrelled  gun,  that  was 
never  out  of  your  hand  when  there  was  no  occasion  for 
such  vanities? ' 

^Pooh!  pooh!  sir,'  said  Hector,  ^who  ever  took  a  fowl- 
ing-piece on  action?  I  have  got  my  uniform  on,  you  see: 
I  hope  I  shall  be  of  more  use  if  they  will  give  me  a  com- 
mand than  I  could  be  with  ten  double-barrels.  And 
you,  sir,  must  get  to  Fairport,  to  give  directions  for 
quartering  and  maintaining  the  men  and  horses,  and 
preventing  confusion.' 

^You  are  right.  Hector:  I  beUeve  I  shall  do  as  much 
with  my  head  as  my  hand  too.  But  here  comes  Sir 
Arthur  Wardour,  who,  between  ourselves,  is  not  fit  to 
accomplish  much  either  one  way  or  other.' 

Sir  Arthur  was  probably  of  a  different  opinion;  for, 
dressed  in  his  lieutenancy  uniform,  he  was  also  on  the 
road  to  Fairport,  and  called  in  his  way  to  take  Mr.  Old- 
buck  with  him,  having  had  his  original  opinion  of  his 
sagacity  much  confirmed  by  late  events.  And,  in  spite 

174 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


of  all  the  entreaties  of  the  womankind  that  the  Anti- 
quary would  stay  to  garrison  Monkbarns,  Mr.  Old- 
buck,  with  his  nephew,  instantly  accepted  Sir  Arthur's 
offer. 

Those  who  have  witnessed  such  a  scene  can  alone 
conceive  the  state  of  bustle  in  Fairport.  The  windows 
were  glancing  with  a  hundred  lights,  which,  appearing 
and  disappearing  rapidly,  indicated  the  confusion 
within  doors.  The  women  of  lower  rank  assembled 
and  clamoured  in  the  market-place.  The  yeomanry, 
pouring  from  their  different  glens,  galloped  through  the 
streets,  some  individually,  some  in  parties  of  five  or 
six,  as  they  had  met  on  the  road.  The  drums  and  fifes 
of  the  volunteers  beating  to  arms  were  blended  with 
the  voice  of  the  officers,  the  sound  of  the  bugles,  and 
the  tolling  of  the  bells  from  the  steeple.  The  ships  in 
the  harbour  were  lit  up,  and  boats  from  the  armed  ves- 
sels added  to  the  bustle  by  landing  men  and  guns  des- 
tined to  assist  in  the  defence  of  the  place.  This  part  of 
the  preparations  was  superintended  by  Taffril  with 
much  activity.  Two  or  three  light  vessels  had  already 
slipped  their  cables  and  stood  out  to  sea,  in  order  to 
discover  the  supposed  enemy. 

Such  was  the  scene  of  general  confusion  when  Sir 
Arthur  Wardour,  Oldbuck,  and  Hector  made  their  way 
with  difficulty  into  the  principal  square,  where  the 
town-house  is  situated.  It  was  Hghted  up,  and  the 
magistracy,  with  many  of  the  neighbouring  gentlemen, 
were  assembled.  And  here,  as  upon  other  occasions  of 
the  like  kind  in  Scotland,  it  was  remarkable  how  the 
good  sense  and  firmness  of  the  people  supplied  almost 
all  the  deficiencies  of  inexperience. 


I7S 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


The  magistrates  were  beset  by  the  quartermasters 
of  the  different  corps  for  billets  for  men  and  horses. 
^Let  us/  said  Bailie  Littlejohn,  Hake  the  horses  into 
our  warehouses  and  the  men  into  our  parlours,  share 
our  supper  with  the  one  and  our  forage  with  the  other. 
We  have  made  ourselves  wealthy  under  a  free  and  pa- 
ternal government,  and  now  is  the  time  to  show  we 
know  its  value.' 

A  loud  and  cheerful  acquiescence  was  given  by  all 
present,  and  the  substance  of  the  wealthy,  with  the 
persons  of  those  of  all  ranks,  were  unanimously  devoted 
to  the  defence  of  the  country. 

Captain  M'Intyre  acted  on  this  occasion  as  military 
adviser  and  aid-de-camp  to  the  principal  magistrate,  and 
displayed  a  degree  of  presence  of  mind  and  knowledge 
of  his  profession  totally  unexpected  by  his  uncle,  who, 
recollecting  his  usual  insouciance  and  impetuosity, 
gazed  at  him  with  astonishment  from  time  to  time,  as 
he  remarked  the  calm  and  steady  manner  in  which  he 
explained  the  various  measures  of  precaution  that  his 
experience  suggested,  and  gave  directions  for  execut- 
ing them.  He  found  the  different  corps  in  good  order, 
considering  the  irregular  materials  of  which  they  were 
composed,  in  great  force  of  numbers,  and  high  confi- 
dence and  spirits.  And  so  much  did  military  experi- 
ence at  that  moment  overbalance  all  other  claims  to 
consequence  that  even  old  Edie,  instead  of  being  left, 
like  Diogenes  at  Sinope,  to  roll  his  tub  when  all  around 
were  preparing  for  defence,  had  the  duty  assigned  him 
of  superintending  the  serving  out  of  the  ammunition, 
which  he  executed  with  much  discretion. 

Two  things  were  still  anxiously  expected  —  the  pre- 
176 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


sence  of  the  Glenallan  volunteers,  who,  in  considera- 
tion of  the  importance  of  that  family,  had  been  formed 
into  a  separate  corps,  and  the  arrival  of  the  officer  be- 
fore announced,  to  whom  the  measures  of  defence  on 
that  coast  had  been  committed  by  the  commander- 
in-chief,  and  whose  commission  would  entitle  him 
to  take  upon  himself  the  full  disposal  of  the  military 
force. 

At  length  the  bugles  of  the  Glenallan  yeomanry  were 
heard,  and  the  Earl  himself,  to  the  surprise  of  all  who 
knew  his  habits  and  state  of  health,  appeared  at  their 
head  in  uniform.  They  formed  a  very  handsome  and 
well-mounted  squadron,  formed  entirely  out  of  the 
EarFs  Lowland  tenants,  and  were  followed  by  a  regi- 
ment of  five  hundred  men,  completely  equipped  in  the 
Highland  dress,  whom  he  had  brought  down  from  the 
upland  glens,  with  their  pipes  playing  in  the  van.  The 
clean  and  serviceable  appearance  of  this  band  of  feudal 
dependents  called  forth  the  admiration  of  Captain 
MTntyre;  but  his  uncle  was  still  more  struck  by  the 
manner  in  which,  upon  this  crisis,  the  ancient  military 
spirit  of  his  house  seemed  to  animate  and  invigorate 
the  decayed  frame  of  the  Earl,  their  leader.  He  claimed 
and  obtained  for  himself  and  his  followers  the  post 
most  Hkely  to  be  that  of  danger,  displayed  great  alac- 
rity in  making  the  necessary  dispositions,  and  showed 
equal  acuteness  in  discussing  their  propriety.  Morning 
broke  in  upon  the  military  councils  of  Fairport  while 
all  concerned  were  still  eagerly  engaged  in  taking  pre- 
cautions for  their  defence. 

At  length  a  cry  among  the  people  announced, 
*  There's  the  brave  Major  Neville  come  at  last,  with 


6  177 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


another  officer';  and  their  post-chaise  and  four  drove 
into  the  square,  amidst  the  huzzas  of  the  volunteers 
and  inhabitants.  The  magistrates,  with  their  assessors 
of  the  Keutenancy,  hastened  to  the  door  of  their  town- 
house  to  receive  him;  but  what  was  the  surprise  of  all 
present,  but  most  especially  that  of  the  Antiquary, 
when  they  became  aware  that  the  handsome  uniform 
and  military  cap  disclosed  the  person  and  features  of 
the  pacific  Lovel !  A  warm  embrace  and  a  hearty  shake 
of  the  hand  were  necessary  to  assure  him  that  his  eyes 
were  doing  him  justice.  Sir  Arthur  was  no  less  surprised 
to  recognize  his  son,  Captain  Wardour,  in  LoveFs,  or 
rather  Major  Neville's  company.  The  first  words  of 
the  young  officers  were  a  positive  assurance  to  all  pre- 
sent that  the  courage  and  zeal  which  they  had  displayed 
were  entirely  thrown  away,  unless  in  so  far  as  they  af- 
forded an  acceptable  proof  of  their  spirit  and  prompti- 
tude. 

*The  watchman  at  Halket  Head,'  said  Major  Ne- 
ville, ^as  we  discovered  by  an  investigation  which  we 
made  in  our  route  hither,  was  most  naturally  misled 
by  a  bonfire  which  some  idle  people  had  made  on  the 
hill  above  Glen  Withershins,  just  in  the  line  of  the  bea- 
con with  which  his  corresponded.' 

Oldbuck  gave  a  conscious  look  to  Sir  Arthur,  who  re- 
turned it  with  one  equally  sheepish  and  a  shrug  of  the 
shoulders. 

^It  must  have  been  the  machinery  which  we  con- 
demned to  the  flames  in  our  wrath,'  said  the  Antiquary, 
plucking  up  heart,  though  not  a  little  ashamed  of 
having  been  the  cause  of  so  much  disturbance.  ^The 
devil  take  Dousterswivel  with  all  my  heart!  I  think 

178 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

he  has  bequeathed  us  a  legacy  of  blunders  and  mis- 
chief, as  if  he  had  lighted  some  train  of  fireworks 
at  his  departure.  I  wonder  what  cracker  will  go  off 
next  among  our  shins.  But  yonder  comes  the  prudent 
Caxon.  Hold  up  your  head,  you  ass;  your  betters 
must  bear  the  blame  for  you.  And  here,  take  this 
what-d'ye-call-it  (giving  him  his  sword).  I  wonder 
what  I  would  have  said  yesterday  to  any  man  that 
would  have  told  me  I  was  to  stick  such  an  appendage 
to  my  tail.' 

Here  he  found  his  arm  gently  pressed  by  Lord  Glen- 
allan,  who  dragged  him  into  a  separate  apartment. 
'For  God's  sake,  who  is  that  young  gentleman  who  is 
so  strikingly  Uke  —  ' 

'Like  the  unfortunate  Eveline,'  interrupted  Oldbuck. 
'I  felt  my  heart  warm  to  him  from  the  first,  and  your 
lordship  has  suggested  the  very  cause.' 

'But  who  —  who  is  he?'  continued  Lord  Glenallan, 
holding  the  Antiquary  with  a  convulsive  grasp. 

'Formerly  I  would  have  called  him  Lovel,  but  now 
he  turns  out  to  be  Major  Neville.' 

'Whom  my  brother  brought  up  as  his  natural  son, 
whom  he  made  his  heir.  Gracious  Heaven!  the  child  of 
my  Eveline!' 

'Hold,  my  lord  —  hold!'  said  Oldbuck;  'do  not  give 
too  hasty  way  to  such  a  presumption;  what  probability 
is  there?' 

'Probability!  none.  There  is  certainty  —  absolute 
certainty.  The  agent  I  mentioned  to  you  wrote  me  the 
whole  story.  I  received  it  yesterday,  not  sooner.  Bring 
him,  for  God's  sake,  that  a  father's  eyes  may  bless  him 
before  he  departs.' 

v«79 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

'I  will;  but,  for  your  own  sake  and  his,  give  him  a  few 
moments  for  preparation.' 

And,  determined  to  make  still  further  investigation 
before  yielding  his  entire  conviction  to  so  strange  a  tale, 
he  sought  out  Major  Neville,  and  found  him  expediting 
the  necessary  measures  for  dispersing  the  force  which 
had  been  assembled. 

^Pray,  Major  Neville,  leave  this  business  for  a  mo- 
ment to  Captain  Wardour  and  to  Hector,  with  whom,  I 
hope,  you  are  thoroughly  reconciled  (Neville  laughed, 
and  shook  hands  with  Hector  across  the  table),  and 
grant  me  a  moment's  audience.' 

'You  have  a  claim  on  me,  Mr.  Oldbuck,  were  my 
business  more  urgent,'  said  Neville,  ^  for  having  passed 
myself  upon  you  under  a  false  name,  and  rewarding 
your  hospitality  by  injuring  your  nephew.' 

'You  served  him  as  he  deserved,'  said  Oldbuck; 
'though,  by  the  way,  he  showed  as  much  good  sense  as 
spirit  to-day.  Egad,  if  he  would  rub  up  his  learning,  and 
read  Caesar  and  Polybius  and  the  Stratagemata  Poly- 
ceni,  I  think  he  would  rise  in  the  army,  and  I  will  cer- 
tainly lend  him  a  lift.' 

'He  is  heartily  deserving  of  it,'  said  Neville;  'and  I 
am  glad  you  excuse  me,  which  you  may  do  the  more 
frankly  when  you  know  that  I  am  so  unfortunate  as  to 
have  no  better  right  to  the  name  of  Neville,  by  which 
I  have  been  generally  distinguished,  than  to  that  of 
Lovel,  under  which  you  knew  me.' 

'Indeed!  then  I  trust  we  shall  find  out  one  for  you  to 
which  you  shall  have  a  firm  and  legal  title.' 

'Sir!  I  trust  you  do  not  think  the  misfortune  of  my 
birth  a  fit  subject  — ' 

i8o 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


^By  no  means,  young  man/  answered  the  Antiquary, 
interrupting  him;  beUeve  I  know  more  of  your  birth 
than  you  do  yourself;  and,  to  convince  you  of  it,  you 
were  educated  and  known  as  a  natural  son  of  Geraldin 
Neville  of  Neville's  Burgh,  in  Yorkshire,  and,  I  pre- 
sume, as  his  destined  heir? ' 

^Pardon  me;  no  such  views  were  held  out  to  me.  I 
was  liberally  educated,  and  pushed  forward  in  the  army 
by  money  and  interest;  but  I  believe  my  supposed  fa- 
ther long  entertained  some  ideas  of  marriage,  though 
he  never  carried  them  into  effect.' 

'You  say  your  supposed  father?  What  leads  you  to 
suppose  Mr.  Geraldin  Neville  was  not  your  real  father?' 

*I  know,  Mr.  Oldbuck,  that  you  would  not  ask 
these  questions  on  a  point  of  such  delicacy  for  the  grat- 
ification of  idle  curiosity.  I  will,  therefore,  tell  you 
candidly  that  last  year,  while  we  occupied  a  small 
town  in  French  Flanders,  I  found  in  a  convent  near 
which  I  was  quartered  a  woman  who  spoke  remarkably 
good  English.  She  was  a  Spaniard,  her  name  Teresa 
D  'Acunha.  In  the  process  of  our  acquaintance  she  dis- 
covered who  I  was,  and  made  herself  known  to  me  as 
the  person  who  had  charge  of  my  infancy.  She  dropped 
more  than  one  hint  of  rank  to  which  I  was  entitled 
and  of  injustice  done  to  me,  promising  a  more  full  dis- 
closure in  case  of  the  death  of  a  lady  in  Scotland,  dur- 
ing whose  lifetime  she  was  determined  to  keep  the 
secret.  She  also  intimated  that  Mr.  Geraldin  Neville 
was  not  my  father.  We  were  attacked  by  the  enemy 
and  driven  from  the  town,  which  was  pillaged  with  sav- 
age ferocity  by  the  republicans.  The  religious  orders 
were  the  particular  objects  of  their  hate  and  cruelty. 

i8i 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


The  convent  was  burned,  and  several  nuns  perished, 
among  others  Teresa,  and  with  her  all  chance  of  know- 
ing the  story  of  my  birth:  tragic  by  all  accounts  it  must 
have  been/ 

^Raro  antecedentem  scelestum,  or,  as  I  may  here  say, 
scelestam,^  said  Oldbuck,  ^deseruit  pcena,  even  Epicu- 
reans admitted  that;  and  what  did  you  do  upon  this?' 

remonstrated  with  Mr.  Neville  by  letter,  and  to 
no  purpose.  I  then  obtained  leave  of  absence,  and 
threw  myself  at  his  feet,  conjuring  him  to  complete  the 
disclosure  which  Teresa  had  begun.  He  refused,  and, 
on  my  importunity,  indignantly  upbraided  me  with  the 
favours  he  had  already  conferred;  I  thought  he  abused 
the  power  of  a  benefactor,  as  he  was  compelled  to  admit 
he  had  no  title  to  that  of  a  father,  and  we  parted  in  mu- 
tual displeasure.  I  renounced  the  name  of  Neville,  and 
assumed  that  under  which  you  knew  me.  It  was  at  this 
time,  when  residing  with  a  friend  in  the  north  of  Eng- 
land who  favoured  my  disguise,  that  I  became  ac- 
quainted with  Miss  Wardour,  and  was  romantic  enough 
to  follow  her  to  Scotland.  My  mind  wavered  on  va- 
rious plans  of  life,  when  I  resolved  to  apply  once  more 
to  Mr.  Neville  for  an  explanation  of  the  mystery  of  my 
birth.  It  was  long  ere  I  received  an  answer;  you  were 
present  when  it  was  put  into  my  hands.  He  informed 
me  of  his  bad  state  of  health,  and  conjured  me,  for  my 
own  sake,  to  inquire  no  farther  into  the  nature  of  his 
connexion  with  me,  but  to  rest  satisfied  with  his  de- 
claring it  to  be  such  and  so  intimate  that  he  designed 
to  constitute  me  his  heir.  When  I  was  preparing  to 
leave  Fairport  to  join  him,  a  second  express  brought 
me  word  that  he  was  no  more.  The  possession  of  great 

182 


THE  ANTIQUARY 


wealth  was  unable  to  suppress  the  remorseful  feelings 
with  which  I  now  regarded  my  conduct  to  my  bene- 
factor, and  some  hints  in  his  letter  appearing  to  inti- 
mate that  there  was  on  my  birth  a  deeper  stain  than 
that  of  ordinary  illegitimacy,  I  remembered  certain 
prejudices  of  Sir  Arthur.' 

'And  you  brooded  over  these  melancholy  ideas  until 
you  were  ill,  instead  of  coming  to  me  for  advice,  and 
teUing  me  the  whole  story?'  said  Oldbuck. 

'Exactly;  then  came  my  quarrel  with  Captain  M'ln- 
tyre,  and  my  compelled  departure  from  Fairport  and 
its  vicinity.' 

'From  love  and  from  poetry  —  Miss  Wardour  and 
the''  Caledoniad"?' 
'Most  true.' 

'And  since  that  time  you  have  been  occupied,  I  sup- 
pose, with  plans  for  Sir  Arthur's  relief?' 

'Yes,  sir;  with  the  assistance  of  Captain  Wardour  at 
Edinburgh.' 

'And  Edie  Ochiltree  here;  you  see  I  know  the  whole 
story.  But  how  came  you  by  the  treasure? ' 

^  It  was  a  quantity  of  plate  which  had  belonged  to  my 
uncle,  and  was  left  in  the  custody  of  a  person  at  Fair- 
port.  Some  time  before  his  death  he  had  sent  orders 
that  it  should  be  melted  down.  He  perhaps  did  not 
wish  me  to  see  the  Glenallan  arms  upon  it.' 

'Well,  Major  Neville,  or  let  me  say  Lovel,  being  the 
name  in  which  I  rather  delight,  you  must,  I  believe, 
exchange  both  of  your  aliases  for  the  style  and  title  of 
the  Honourable  William  Geraldin,  commonly  called 
Lord  Geraldin.' 

The  Antiquary  then  went  through  the  strange  and 

183 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


melancholy  circumstances  concerning  his  mother^s 
death. 

have  no  doubt/  he  said,  Hhat  your  uncle  wished 
the  report  to  be  beheved  that  the  child  of  this  unhappy 
marriage  was  no  more;  perhaps  he  might  himself  have 
an  eye  to  the  inheritance  of  his  brother  —  he  was  then  a 
gay  wild  young  man.  But  of  all  intentions  against  your 
person,  however  much  the  evil  conscience  of  Elspeth 
might  lead  her  to  suspect  him  from  the  agitation  in 
which  he  appeared,  Teresa's  story  and  your  own  fully 
acquit  him.  And  now,  my  dear  sir,  let  me  have  the 
pleasure  of  introducing  a  son  to  a  father.' 

We  will  not  attempt  to  describe  such  a  meeting.  The 
proofs  on  all  sides  were  found  to  be  complete,  for  Mr. 
Neville  had  left  a  distinct  account  of  the  whole  transac- 
tion with  his  confidential  steward  in  a  sealed  packet, 
which  was  not  to  be  opened  until  the  death  of  the  old 
Countess;  his  motive  for  preserving  secrecy  so  long  ap- 
pearing to  have  been  an  apprehension  of  the  effect 
which  the  discovery,  fraught  with  so  much  disgrace, 
must  necessarily  produce  upon  her  haughty  and  vio- 
lent temper. 

In  the  evening  of  that  day  the  yeomanry  and  volun- 
teers of  Glenallan  drank  prosperity  to  their  young  mas- 
ter. In  a  month  afterwards  Lord  Geraldin  was  married 
to  Miss  Wardour,  the  Antiquary  making  the  lady  a 
present  of  the  wedding  ring,  a  massy  circle  of  antique 
chasing,  and  bearing  the  motto  of  Aldobrand  Olden- 
buck,  Kunst  macht  Gunst. 

Old  Edie,  the  most  important  man  that  ever  wore  a 
blue-gown,  bowls  away  easily  from  one  friend's  house 
to  another,  and  boasts  that  he  never  travels  unless  on 

184 


THE  ANTIQUARY 

a  sunny  day.  Latterly,  indeed,  he  has  given  some  sym- 
toms  of  becoming  stationary,  being  frequently  found 
in  the  corner  of  a  snug  cottage  between  Monkbarns  and 
Knockwinnock,  to  which  Caxon  retreated  upon  his 
daughter's  marriage,  in  order  to  be  in  the  neighbour- 
hood of  the  three  parochial  wigs,  which  he  continues  to 
keep  in  repair,  though  only  for  amusement.  Edie  has 
been  heard  to  say,  'This  is  a  gey  bein  place,  and  it's  a 
comfort  to  hae  sic  a  corner  to  sit  in  in  a  bad  day.'  It  is 
thought,  as  he  grows  stiffer  in  the  joints,  he  will  finally 
settle  there. 

The  bounty  of  such  wealthy  patrons  as  Lord  and 
Lady  Geraldin  flowed  copiously  upon  Mrs.  Hadoway 
and  upon  the  Mucklebackits.  By  the  former  it  was  well 
employed,  by  the  latter  wasted.  They  continue,  how- 
ever, to  receive  it,  but  under  the  administration  of  Edie 
Ochiltree;  and  they  do  not  accept  it  without  grumbling 
at  the  channel  through  which  it  is  conveyed. 

Hector  is  rising  rapidly  in  the  army,  and  has  been 
more  than  once  mentioned  in  the  ^Gazette,'  and  rises 
proportionally  high  in  his  uncle's  favour.  And,  what 
scarcely  pleases  the  young  soldier  less,  he  has  also  shot 
two  seals,  and  thus  put  an  end  to  the  Antiquary's  per- 
petual harping  upon  the  story  of  the  phoca.  People 
talk  of  a  marriage  between  Miss  M'Intyre  and  Captain 
Wardour;  but  this  wants  confirmation. 

The  Antiquary  is  a  frequent  visitor  at  Knockwin- 
nock and  Glenallan  House,  ostensibly  for  the  sake  of 
completing  two  essays,  one  on  the  mail-shirt  of  the 
Great  Earl  and  the  other  on  the  left-hand  gauntlet  of 
Hell-in-Harness.  He  regularly  inquires  whether  Lord 
Geraldin  has  commenced  the  'Caledoniad,'  and  shakes 

I8S 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

his  head  at  the  answers  he  receives.  En  attendanty 
however,  he  has  completed  his  notes,  which,  we  be- 
lieve, will  be  at  the  service  of  any  one  who  chooses  to 
make  them  public,  without  risk  or  expense  to  The 
Antiquary, 


END  OF  THE  ANTIQUARY 


TALES  OF  MY  LANDLORD 

Hear,  Land  o'  Cakes  and  brither  Scots, 
Frae  Maidenkirk  to  Johnny  Groat's, 
If  there's  a  hole  in  a'  your  coats, 

I  rede  ye  tent  it ; 
A  chiel 's  amang  you  takin'  notes, 

An'  faith  he  '11  prent  it  I 

Burns. 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


Ahora  bteuy  dixo  il  Curdy  traedme,  senor  huSsped,  aquesos  libroSy  que 
los  quiero  ver.  Que  me  place^  respondio  el,  y  entrando  en  su  aposentOj 
sacd  del  una  maletilla  vieja  cerrada  con  una  cadenillay  y  ahriendola  halld 
en  ella  tres  libros  grandes  y  unos  papeles  de  muy  buena  letra  escritos  de 
mano,  —  Don  Quixote,  Parte  I,  Capitulo  xxxii. 

It  is  mighty  well,  said  the  priest;  pray,  landlord,  bring  me  those 
books,  for  I  have  a  mind  to  see  them.  With  all  my  heart,  answered  the 
host;  and  going  to  his  chamber,  he  brought  out  a  little  old  cloke-bag, 
with  a  padlock  and  chain  to  it,  and  opening  it,  he  took  out  three  large 
volumes,  and  some  manuscript  papers  written  in  a  fine  character.  — 
Jarvis's  Translation, 


INTRODUCTION 


The  ideal  being  who  is  here  presented  as  residing  in  soli- 
tude, and  haunted  by  a  consciousness  of  his  own  deform- 
ity and  a  suspicion  of  his  being  generally  subjected  to 
the  scorn  of  his  fellow-men,  is  not  altogether  imaginary. 
An  individual  existed  many  years  since,  under  the 
Author's  observation,  who  suggested  such  a  character. 
This  poor  unfortunate  man's  name  was  David  Ritchie, 
a  native  of  Tweeddale.  He  was  the  son  of  a  labourer  in 
the  slate-quarries  of  Stobo,  and  must  have  been  born 
in  the  misshapen  form  which  he  exhibited,  though  he 
sometimes  imputed  it  to  ill-usage  when  in  infancy.  He 
was  bred  a  brush-maker  at  Edinburgh,  and  had  wan- 
dered to  several  places,  working  at  his  trade,  from  all 
which  he  was  chased  by  the  disagreeable  attention 
which  his  hideous  singularity  of  form  and  face  at- 
tracted wherever  he  came.  The  Author  understood  him 
to  say  he  had  even  been  in  Dublin. 

Tired  at  length  of  being  the  object  of  shouts,  laughter, 
and  derision,  David  Ritchie  resolved,  like  a  deer  hunted 
from  the  herd,  to  retreat  to  some  wilderness,  where  he 
might  have  the  least  possible  communication  with  the 
world  which  scoffed  at  him.  He  settled  himself,  with 
this  view,  upon  a  patch  of  wild  moorland  at  the  bottom 
of  a  bank  on  the  farm  of  Woodhouse,  in  the  sequestered 
vale  of  the  small  river  Manor,  in  Peeblesshire.  The  few 
people  who  had  occasion  to  pass  that  way  were  much 
surprised,  and  some  superstitious  persons  a  little 
alarmed,  to  see  so  strange  a  figure  as  Bow'd  Davie  (i.e. 

189 


INTRODUCTION 


Crooked  David)  employed  in  a  task  for  which  he  seemed 
so  totally  unfit  as  that  of  erecting  a  house.  The  cottage 
which  he  built  was  extremely  small,  but  the  walls,  as 
well  as  those  of  a  little  garden  that  surrounded  it,  were 
constructed  with  an  ambitious  degree  of  solidity,  being 
composed  of  layers  of  large  stones  and  turf;  and  some  of 
the  corner  stones  were  so  weighty  as  to  puzzle  the  spec- 
tators how  such  a  person  as  the  architect  could  possibly 
have  raised  them.  In  fact,  David  received  from  pass- 
engers, or  those  who  came  attracted  by  curiosity,  a 
good  deal  of  assistance;  and  as  no  one  knew  how  much 
aid  had  been  given  by  others,  the  wonder  of  each  indi- 
vidual remained  undiminished. 

The  proprietor  of  the  ground,  the  late  Sir  James  Nas- 
mythe,  Baronet,  chanced  to  pass  this  singular  dwelling, 
which,  having  been  placed  there  without  right  or  leave 
asked  or  given,  formed  an  exact  parallel  with  Falstaff's 
simile  of  a '  fair  house  built  on  another's  ground ' ;  so  that 
poor  David  might  have  lost  his  edifice  by  mistaking  the 
property  where  he  had  erected  it.  Of  course,  the  pro- 
prietor entertained  no  idea  of  exacting  such  a  forfeiture, 
but  readily  sanctioned  the  harmless  encroachment. 

The  personal  description  of  Elshender  of  Mucklestane 
Moor  has  been  generally  allowed  to  be  a  tolerably  exact 
and  unexaggerated  portrait  of  David  of  Manor  Water. 
He  was  not  quite  three  feet  and  a  half  high,  since  he 
could  stand  upright  in  the  door  of  his  mansion,  which 
was  just  that  height.  The  following  particulars  concern- 
ing his  figure  and  temper  occur  in  the  Scots  Magazine 
for  1817,  and  are  now  understood  to  have  been  commu- 
nicated by  the  ingenious  Mr.  Robert  Chambers  of  Edin- 
burgh, who  has  recorded  with  much  spirit  the  traditions 

190 


INTRODUCTION 


of  the  Good  Town,  and,  in  other  publications,  largely 
and  agreeably  added  to  the  stock  of  our  popular  antiqui- 
ties. He  is  the  countryman  of  David  Ritchie,  and  had 
the  best  access  to  collect  anecdotes  of  him. 

'His  skull/  says  this  authority,  'which  was  of  an  oblong  and 
rather  unusual  shape,  was  said  to  be  of  such  strength  that  he 
could  strike  it  with  ease  through  the  panel  of  a  door  or  the  end 
of  a  barrel.  His  laugh  is  said  to  have  been  quite  horrible;  and 
his  screech-owl  voice,  shrill,  uncouth,  and  dissonant,  corresponded 
well  with  his  other  peculiarities. 

'There  was  nothing  very  uncommon  about  his  dress.  He  usu- 
ally wore  an  old  slouched  hat  when  he  went  abroad;  and  when  at 
home  a  sort  of  cowl  or  night-cap.  He  never  wore  shoes,  being  un- 
able to  adapt  them  to  his  misshapen  fin-like  feet,  but  always  had 
both  feet  and  legs  quite  concealed,  and  wrapt  up  with  pieces  of 
cloth.  He  always  walked  with  a  sort  of  pole  or  pike-staff,  consid- 
erably taller  than  himself.  His  habits  were,  in  many  respects,  sin- 
gular, and  indicated  a  mind  congenial  to  its  uncouth  tabernacle. 
A  jealous,  misanthropical,  and  irritable  temper  was  his  prom- 
inent characteristic.  The  sense  of  his  deformity  haunted  him  like 
a  phantom;  and  the  insults  and  scorn  to  which  this  exposed  him 
had  poisoned  his  heart  with  fierce  and  bitter  feelings,  which,  from 
other  points  in  his  character,  do  not  appear  to  have  been  more 
largely  infused  into  his  original  temperament  than  that  of  his 
fellow-men. 

'He  detested  children,  on  account  of  their  propensity  to  insult 
and  persecute  him.  To  strangers  he  was  generally  reserved, 
crabbed,  and  surly;  and  though  he  by  no  means  refused  assistance 
or  charity,  he  seldom  either  expressed  or  exhibited  much  gratitude. 
Even  towards  persons  who  had  been  his  greatest  benefactors,  and 
who  possessed  the  greatest  share  of  his  good-will,  he  frequently 
displayed  much  caprice  and  jealousy.  A  lady  who  had  known 
him  from  his  infancy,  and  who  has  furnished  us  in  the  most 
obliging  manner  with  some  particulars  respecting  him,  says  that, 
although  Davie  showed  as  much  respect  and  attachment  to  her 
father's  family  as  it  was  in  his  nature  to  show  to  any,  yet  they 
were  always  obliged  to  be  very  cautious  in  their  deportment  to- 
wards him.  One  day,  having  gone  to  visit  him  with  another  lady, 
he  took  them  through  his  garden,  and  was  showing  them,  with 


191 


INTRODUCTION 


much  pride  and  good-humour,  all  his  rich  and  tastefully-assorted 
borders,  when  they  happened  to  stop  near  a  plot  of  cabbages  which 
had  been  somewhat  injured  by  the  caterpillars.  Davie,  observing 
one  of  the  ladies  smile,  instantly  assumed  his  savage,  scowling 
aspect,  rushed  among  the  cabbages,  and  dashed  them  to  pieces 
with  his  kent,  exclaiming;  "I  hate  the  worms,  for  they  mock  me!" 

*  Another  lady,  likewise  a  friend  and  old  acquaintance  of  his, 
very  unintentionally  gave  David  mortal  offence  on  a  similar  occa- 
sion. Throwing  back  his  jealous  glance  as  he  was  ushering  her 
into  his  garden,  he  fancied  he  observed  her  spit,  and  exclaimed 
with  great  ferocity,  "Am  I  a  toad,  woman!  that  ye  spit  at  me  — 
that  ye  spit  at  me? and  without  listening  to  any  answer  or 
excuse,  drove  her  out  of  his  garden  with  imprecations  and  insult. 
When  irritated  by  persons  for  whom  he  entertained  little  respect, 
his  misanthropy  displayed  itself  in  words,  and  sometimes  in 
actions,  of  still  greater  rudeness ;  and  he  used  on  such  occasions  the 
most  unusual  and  singularly  savage  imprecations  and  threats.'^ 

Nature  maintains  a  certain  balance  of  good  and  evil 
in  all  her  works;  and  there  is  no  state  perhaps  so  utterly 
desolate  which  does  not  possess  some  source  of  gratifi- 
cation peculiar  to  itself.  This  poor  man,  whose  misan- 
thropy was  founded  in  a  sense  of  his  own  preternatural 
deformity,  had  yet  his  own  particular  enjoyments. 
Driven  into  solitude,  he  became  an  admirer  of  the  beau- 
ties of  nature.  His  garden,  which  he  sedulously  culti- 
vated, and  from  a  piece  of  wild  moorland  made  a  very 
productive  spot,  was  his  pride  and  his  delight;  but  he 
was  also  an  admirer  of  more  natural  beauty:  the  soft 
sweep  of  the  green  hill,  the  bubbling  of  a  clear  fountain, 
or  the  complexities  of  a  wild  thicket,  were  scenes  on 
which  he  often  gazed  for  hours,  and,  as  he  said,  with  in- 
expressible delight.  It  was  perhaps  for  this  reason  that 
he  was  fond  of  Shenstone's  pastorals  and  some  parts 
of  Paradise  Lost.  The  Author  has  heard  his  most  un- 
^  Scots  Magazine^  vol.  Lxxx,  p.  207. 


192 


INTRODUCTION 


musical  voice  repeat  the  celebrated  description  of  Para- 
dise, which  he  seemed  fully  to  appreciate.  His  other 
studies  were  of  a  different  cast,  chiefly  polemical.  He 
never  went  to  the  parish  church,  and  was  therefore  sus- 
pected of  entertaining  heterodox  opinions,  though  his 
objection  was  probably  to  the  concourse  of  spectators  to 
whom  he  must  have  exposed  his  unseemly  deformity. 
He  spoke  of  a  future  state  with  intense  feeling,  and  even 
with  tears.  He  expressed  disgust  at  the  idea  of  his 
remains  being  mixed  with  the  common  rubbish,  as  he 
called  it,  of  the  churchyard,  and  selected  with  his  usual 
taste  a  beautiful  and  wild  spot  in  the  glen  where  he  had 
his  hermitage,  in  which  to  take  his  last  repose.  He 
changed  his  mind,  however,  and  was  finally  interred  in 
the  common  burial-ground  of  Manor  parish. 

The  Author  has  invested  Wise  Elshie  with  some  quali- 
ties which  made  him  appear,  in  the  eyes  of  the  vulgar,  a 
man  possessed  of  supernatural  power.  Common  fame 
paid  David  Ritchie  a  similar  compliment,  for  some  of 
the  poor  and  ignorant,  as  well  as  all  the  children,  in  the 
neighbourhood,  held  him  to  be  what  is  called  *  uncanny.^ 
He  himself  did  not  altogether  discourage  the  idea;  it 
enlarged  his  very  limited  circle  of  power,  and  in  so  far 
gratified  his  conceit;  and  it  soothed  his  misanthropy,  by 
increasing  his  means  of  giving  terror  or  pain.  But  even 
in  a  rude  Scottish  glen  thirty  years  back  the  fear  of 
sorcery  was  very  much  out  of  date. 

David  Ritchie  affected  to  frequent  solitary  scenes,  es- 
pecially such  as  were  supposed  to  be  haunted,  and  val- 
ued himself  upon  his  courage  in  doing  so.  To  be  sure,  he 
had  little  chance  of  meeting  anything  more  ugly  than 
himself.  At  heart  he  was  superstitious,  and  planted 


6  193 


INTRODUCTION 


many  rowans  (mountain  ashes)  around  his  hut,  as  a  cer- 
tain defence  against  necromancy.  For  the  same  reason, 
doubtless,  he  desired  to  have  rowan-trees  set  above  his 
grave. 

We  have  stated  that  David  Ritchie  loved  objects  of 
natural  beauty.  His  only  living  favourites  were  a  dog 
and  a  cat,  to  which  he  was  particularly  attached,  and  his 
bees,  which  he  treated  with  great  care.  He  took  a  sister, 
latterly,  to  live  in  a  hut  adjacent  to  his  own,  but  he  did 
not  permit  her  to  enter  it.  She  was  weak  in  intellect,  but 
not  deformed  in  person;  simple,  or  rather  silly,  but  not, 
like  her  brother,  sullen  or  bizarre.  David  was  never  af- 
fectionate to  her  —  it  was  not  in  his  nature;  but  he  en- 
dured her.  He  maintained  himself  and  her  by  the  sale  of 
the  produce  of  their  garden  and  bee-hives;  and,  latterly, 
they  had  a  small  allowance  from  the  parish.  Indeed,  in 
the  simple  and  patriarchal  state  in  which  the  country 
then  was,  persons  in  the  situation  of  David  and  his  sis- 
ter were  sure  to  be  supported.  They  had  only  to  apply 
to  the  next  gentleman  or  respectable  farmer,  and  were 
sure  to  find  them  equally  ready  and  willing  to  supply 
their  very  moderate  wants.  David  often  received  gratui- 
ties from  strangers,  which  he  never  asked,  never  refused, 
and  never  seemed  to  consider  as  an  obligation.  He  had 
a  right,  indeed,  to  regard  himself  as  one  of  Nature's  pau- 
pers, to  whom  she  gave  a  title  to  be  maintained  by  his 
kind,  even  by  that  deformity  which  closed  against  him 
all  ordinary  ways  of  supporting  himself  by  his  own  la- 
bour. Besides,  a  bag  was  suspended  in  the  mill  for  David 
Ritchie's  benefit;  and  those  who  were  carrying  home  a 
melder  of  meal  seldom  failed  to  add  a  gowpen  to  the 
alms-bag  of  the  deformed  cripple.  In  short,  David  had 


194 


INTRODUCTION 


no  occasion  for  money,  save  to  purchase  snuff,  his  only 
luxury,  in  which  he  indulged  himself  liberally.  When  he 
died,  in  the  beginning  of  the  present  century,  he  was 
found  to  have  hoarded  about  twenty  pounds,  a  habit 
very  consistent  with  his  disposition;  for  wealth  is 
power,  and  power  was  what  David  Ritchie  desired  to 
possess,  as  a  compensation  for  his  exclusion  from  human 
society. 

His  sister  survived  till  the  publication  of  the  tale  to 
which  this  brief  notice  forms  the  introduction;  and  the 
Author  is  sorry  to  learn  that  a  sort  of  'local  sympathy,' 
and  the  curiosity  then  expressed  concerning  the  Author 
of  Waverley  and  the  subjects  of  his  Novels,  exposed  the 
poor  woman  to  inquiries  which  gave  her  pain.  When 
pressed  about  her  brother's  peculiarities,  she  asked,  in 
her  turn,  why  they  would  not  permit  the  dead  to  rest? 
To  others,  who  pressed  for  some  account  of  her  parents, 
she  answered  in  the  same  tone  of  feeling. 

The  Author  saw  this  poor,  and,  it  may  be  said,  un- 
happy, man  in  autumn  1797.  Being  then,  as  he  has  the 
happiness  still  to  remain,  connected  by  ties  of  in- 
timate friendship  with  the  family  of  the  venerable  Dr. 
Adam  Fergusson,  the  philosopher  and  historian,  who 
then  resided  at  the  mansion-house  of  Halyards,  in  the 
vale  of  Manor,  about  a  mile  from  Ritchie's  hermitage, 
the  Author  was  upon  a  visit  at  Halyards,  which  lasted 
for  several  days,  and  was  made  acquainted  with  this 
singular  anchorite,  whom  Dr.  Fergusson  considered  as 
an  extraordinary  character,  and  whom  he  assisted  in 
various  ways,  particularly  by  the  occasional  loan  of 
books.  Though  the  taste  of  the  philosopher  and  the  poor 
peasant  did  not,  it  may  be  supposed,  always  corre- 

19s 


INTRODUCTION 


spond,*  Dr.  Fergusson  considered  him  as  a  man  of  a 
powerful  capacity  and  original  ideas,  but  whose  mind 
was  thrown  off  its  just  bias  by  a  predominant  degree  of 
self-love  and  self-opinion,  galled  by  the  sense  of  ridicule 
and  contempt,  and  avenging  itself  upon  society,  in  idea 
at  least,  by  a  gloomy  misanthropy. 

David  Ritchie,  besides  the  utter  obscurity  of  his  life 
while  in  existence,  had  been  dead  for  many  years  when  it 
occurred  to  the  Author  that  such  a  character  might  be 
made  a  powerful  agent  in  fictitious  narrative.  He  accord- 
ingly sketched  that  of  Elshie  of  the  Mucklestane  Moor. 
The  story  was  intended  to  be  longer,  and  the  catastro- 
phe more  artificially  brought  out;  but  a  friendly  critic, 
to  whose  opinion  I  subjected  the  work  in  its  progress, 
was  of  opinion  that  the  idea  of  the  Solitary  was  of  a  kin^ 
too  revolting,  and  more  likely  to  disgust  than  to  interest 
the  reader.  As  I  had  good  right  to  consider  my  adviser 
as  an  excellent  judge  of  public  opinion,  I  got  off  my 
subject  by  hastening  the  story  to  an  end  as  fast  as  it  was 
possible;  and,  by  huddling  into  one  volume  a  tale  which 
was  designed  to  occupy  two,  have  perhaps  produced  a 
narrative  as  much  disproportioned  and  distorted  as  the 
Black  Dwarf  who  is  its  subject. 

^  I  remember  David  was  particularly  anxious  to  see  a  book  which  he 
called,  I  think,  Letters  to  the  Elect  Ladies,  and  which,  he  said,  was  the 
best  composition  he  had  ever  read;  but  Dr.  Fergusson's  library  did  not 
supply  the  volume. 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


CHAPTER  I 

PRELIMINARY 
Hast  any  philosophy  in  thee,  Shepherd? 

As  You  Like  It, 

It  was  a  fine  April  morning  (excepting  that  it  had  snowed 
hard  the  night  before,  and  the  ground  remained  covered 
with  a  dazzling  mantle  of  six  inches  in  depth)  when  two 
horsemen  rode  up  to  the  Wallace  Inn.  The  first  was  a 
strong,  tall,  powerful  man  in  a  grey  riding-coat,  having 
a  hat  covered  with  wax-cloth,  a  huge  silver-mounted 
horsewhip,  boots,  and  dreadnought  overalls.  He  was 
mounted  on  a  large  strong  brown  mare,  rough  in  coat, 
but  well  in  condition,  with  a  saddle  of  the  yeomanry  cut 
and  a  double-bitted  military  bridle.  The  man  who  ac- 
companied him  was  apparently  his  servant;  he  rode  a 
shaggy  little  grey  pony,  had  a  blue  bonnet  on  his  head, 
and  a  large  check  napkin  folded  about  his  neck,  wore  a 
pair  of  long  blue  worsted  hose  instead  of  boots,  had  his 
gloveless  hands  much  stained  with  tar,  and  observed  an 
air  of  deference  and  respect  towards  his  companion,  but 
without  any  of  those  indications  of  precedence  and  punc- 
tilio which  are  preserved  between  the  gentry  and  their 
domestics.  On  the  contrary,  the  two  travellers  entered 
the  courtyard  abreast,  and  the  concluding  sentence  of 

197 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


the  conversation  which  had  been  carrying  on  betwixt 
them  was  a  joint  ejaculation,  ^Lord  guide  us,  an  this 
weather  last  what  will  come  o'  the  lambs ! '  The  hint  was 
sufficient  for  my  Landlord,  who,  advancing  to  take  the 
horse  of  the  principal  person,  and  holding  him  by  the 
reins  as  he  dismounted,  while  his  hostler  rendered  the 
same  service  to  the  attendant,  welcomed  the  stranger  to 
Gandercleugh,  and  in  the  same  breath  inquired,  *  What 
news  from  the  South  Hielands? ' 

'News?'  said  the  farmer,  *bad  eneugh  news,  I  think. 
An  we  can  carry  through  the  yowes  it  will  be  a'  we  can 
da;  we  maun  e'en  leave  the  lambs  to  the  Black  Dwarf's 
care.' 

'Ay,  ay,'  subjoined  the  old  shepherd  (for  such  he  was), 
shaking  his  head,  'he'll  be  unco  busy  amang  the  morts 
this  season.' 

'The  Black  Dwarf!'  said  my  learned  friend  and  pa- 
tron Mr.  Jedediah  Cleishbotham,  'and  what  sort  of  a 
personage  may  he  be? ' 

'Hout  awa',  man,'  answered  the  farmer,  'ye '11  hae 
heard  o'  Canny  Elshie  the  Black  Dwarf,  or  I  am  muckle 
mistaen.  A'  the  warld  tells  tales  about  him,  but  it's  but 
daft  nonsense  after  a';  I  dinna  believe  a  word  o't  frae 
beginning  to  end.' 

'Your  father  believed  it  unco  stievely,  though,'  said 
the  old  man,  to  whom  the  scepticism  of  his  master  gave 
obvious  displeasure. 

'Ay,  very  true,  Bauldie,  but  that  was  in  the  time  o' 
the  blackfaces;  they  believed  a  hantle  queer  things  in 
thae  days,  that  naebody  heeds  since  the  lang  sheep  cam 
in.' 

*  See  Note  i. 


198 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


*The  mair 's  the  pity  —  the  mair 's  the  pity/  said  the 
aid  man.  ^  Your  father  —  and  sae  I  have  aften  telFd  ye, 
maister  —  wad  hae  been  sair  vexed  to  hae  seen  the  auld 
peel-house  wa's  pu'd  down  to  make  park  dykes;  and  the 
bonny  broomy  knowe,  where  he  liked  sae  weel  to  sit  at 
e'en,  wi'  his  plaid  about  him,  and  look  at  the  kye  as 
they  cam  down  the  loaning  —  ill  wad  he  hae  liked  to  hae 
seen  that  braw  sunny  knowe  a'  riven  out  wi'  the  pleugh 
in  the  fashion  it  is  at  this  day/ 

^Hout,  Bauldie,'  replied  the  principal,  Hak  ye  that 
dram  the  landlord's  offering  ye,  and  never  fash  your 
head  about  the  changes  o'  the  warld,  sae  lang  as  ye 're 
blythe  and  bien  yourselL' 

'Wussing  your  health,  sirs,'  said  the  shepherd;  and 
having  taken  off  his  glass,  and  observed  the  whisky  was 
the  right  thing,  he  continued, '  It 's  no  for  the  like  o'  us  to 
be  judging,  to  be  sure;  but  it  was  a  bonny  knowe  that 
broomy  knowe,  and  an  unco  braw  shelter  for  the  lambs 
in  a  severe  morning  like  this.' 

*Ay,'  said  his  patron,  *but  ye  ken  we  maun  hae  tur- 
nips for  the  lang  sheep,  billie,  and  muckle  hard  wark  to 
get  them,  baith  wi'  the  pleugh  and  the  howe;  and  that 
wad  sort  ill  wi'  sitting  on  the  broomy  knowe  and  crack- 
ing about  Black  Dwarfs  and  siccan  clavers,  as  was  the 
gate  lang  syne,  when  the  short  sheep  were  in  the  fashion.' 

^Aweel,  aweel,  maister,'  said  the  attendant,  'short 
sheep  had  short  rents,  I'm  thinking.' 

Here  my  worthy  and  learned  patron  again  interposed, 
and  observed,  'that  he  could  never  perceive  any  mate- 
rial difference  in  point  of  longitude  between  one  sheep 
and  another.' 

This  occasioned  a  loud  hoarse  laugh  on  the  part  of  the 
199 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


farmer,  and  an  astonished  stare  on  the  part  of  the  shep- 
herd. 'It's  the  woo',  man  —  it's  the  woo',  and  no  the 
beasts  themsells,  that  makes  them  be  ca'd  lang  or  short. 
I  believe  if  ye  were  to  measure  their  backs  the  short 
sheep  wad  be  rather  the  langer-bodied  o'  the  twa;  but 
it 's  the  woo'  that  pays  the  rent  in  thae  days,  and  it  had 
muckle  need.  Odd,  Bauldie  says  very  true,'  he  contin- 
ued after  a  moment's  reflection,  'short  sheep  did  make 
short  rents;  my  father  paid  for  our  steading  just  three- 
score punds,  and  it  stands  me  in  three  hundred,  plack 
and  bawbee.  And  that 's  very  true,  I  hae  nae  time  to  be 
standing  here  clavering.  Landlord,  get  us  our  breakfast, 
and  see  an'  get  the  yauds  fed.  I  am  for  doun  to  Christy 
Wilson's,  to  see  if  him  and  me  can  gree  about  the  luck- 
penny  I  am  to  gie  him  for  his  year-aulds.  We  had  drank 
sax  mutchkins  to  the  making  the  bargain  at  St.  Bos- 
well's  Fair,  and  some  gate  we  canna  gree  upon  the  par- 
ticulars preceesely,  for  as  muckle  time  as  we  took  about 
it;  I  doubt  we  draw  to  a  plea.  But  hear  ye,  neighbour,^ 
addressing  my  worthy  and  learned  patron,  'if  ye  want  to 
hear  ony  thing  about  lang  or  short  sheep,  I  will  be  back 
here  to  my  kail  against  ane  o'clock;  or,  if  ye  want  ony 
auld-warld  stories  about  the  Black  Dwarf,  and  sic-like, 
if  ye '11  ware  a  half  mutchkin  upon  Bauldie  there,  he'll 
crack  t  'ye  like  a  pen-gun.  And  I'se  gie  ye  a  mutchkin 
mysell,  man,  if  I  can  settle  weel  wi'  Christy  Wilson.' 

The  farmer  returned  at  the  hour  appointed,  and  with 
him  came  Christy  Wilson,  their  difference  having  been 
fortunately  settled  without  an  appeal  to  the  gentlemen 
of  the  long  robe.  My  learned  and  worthy  patron  failed 
not  to  attend,  both  on  account  of  the  refreshment  prom- 
ised to  the  mind  and  to  the  body,  although  he  is  known 


200 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


to  partake  of  the  latter  in  a  very  moderate  degree;  and  the 
party,  with  which  my  Landlord  was  associated,  contin- 
ued to  sit  late  in  the  evening,  seasoning  their  liquor  with 
many  choice  tales  and  songs.  The  last  incident  which  I 
recollect  was  my  learned  and  worthy  patron  falling  from 
his  chair,  just  as  he  concluded  a  long  lecture  upon 
temperance,  by  reciting  from  the  *  Gentle  Shepherd' a 
couplet,  which  he  right  happily  transferred  from  the  vice 
of  avarice  to  that  of  ebriety: 

He  that  has  just  eneugh  may  soundly  sleep, 
The  owercome  only  fashes  folk  to  keep. 

In  the  course  of  the  evening  the  Black  Dwarfs  had  not 
been  forgotten,  and  the  old  shepherd,  Bauldie,  told  so 
many  stories  of  him  that  they  excited  a  good  deal  of  in- 
terest. It  also  appeared,  though  not  till  the  third  punch- 
bowl was  emptied,  that  much  of  the  farmer's  scepti- 
cism on  the  subject  was  affected,  as  evincing  a  liberality 
of  thinking  and  a  freedom  from  ancient  prejudices  be- 
coming a  man  who  paid  three  hundred  pounds  a  year  of 
rent,  while,  in  fact,  he  had  a  lurking  belief  in  the  tradi- 
tions of  his  forefathers.  After  my  usual  manner  I  made 
farther  inquiries  of  other  persons  connected  with  the 
wild  and  pastoral  district  in  which  the  scene  of  the  fol- 
lowing narrative  is  placed,  and  I  was  fortunate  enough 
to  recover  many  links  of  the  story,  not  generally  known, 
and  which  account,  at  least  in  some  degree,  for  the  cir- 
cumstances of  exaggerated  marvel  with  which  supersti- 
tion has  attired  it  in  the  more  vulgar  traditions. 
*  See  Note  2. 


CHAPTER  II 


Will  none  but  Hearne  the  Hunter  serve  your  turn? 

Merry  Wives  of  Windsor, 

In  one  of  the  most  remote  districts  of  the  south  of  Scot- 
land, where  an  ideal  line,  drawn  along  the  tops  of  lofty 
and  bleak  mountains,  separates  that  land  from  her  sister 
kingdom,  a  young  man  called  Halbert  or  Hobbie  Elliot, 
a  substantial  farmer,  who  boasted  his  descent  from  old 
Martin  Elliot  of  the  Preakin  Tower,  noted  in  Border 
story  and  song,  was  on  his  return  from  deer-stalking. 
The  deer,  once  so  numerous  among  these  solitary 
wastes,  were  now  reduced  to  a  very  few  herds,  which, 
sheltering  themselves  in  the  most  remote  and  inaccessi- 
ble recesses,  rendered  the  task  of  pursuing  them  equally 
toilsome  and  precarious.  There  were,  however,  found 
many  youth  of  the  country  ardently  attached  to  this 
sport,  with  all  its  dangers  and  fatigues.  The  sword  had 
been  sheathed  upon  the  Borders  for  more  than  a  hun- 
dred years  by  the  peaceful  Union  of  the  Crowns  in  the 
reign  of  James  the  First  of  Great  Britain.  Still  the  coun- 
try retained  traces  of  what  it  had  been  in  former  days: 
the  inhabitants,  their  more  peaceful  avocations  having 
been  repeatedly  interrupted  by  the  civil  wars  of  the  pre- 
ceding century,  were  scarce  yet  broken  in  to  the  habits 
of  regular  industry,  sheep-farming  had  not  been  intro- 
duced upon  any  considerable  scale,  and  the  feeding  of 
black  cattle  was  the  chief  purpose  to  which  the  hills  and 
valleys  were  applied.    Near  to  the  farmer's  house  the 

202 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


tenant  usually  contrived  to  raise  such  a  crop  of  oats  or 
barley  as  afforded  meal  for  his  family;  and  the  whole  of 
this  slovenly  and  imperfect  mode  of  cultivation  left 
much  time  upon  his  own  hands  and  those  of  his  domes- 
tics. This  was  usually  employed  by  the  young  men  in 
hunting  and  fishing;  and  the  spirit  of  adventure,  which 
formerly  led  to  raids  and  forays  in  the  same  districts, 
was  still  to  be  discovered  in  the  eagerness  with  which 
they  pursued  those  rural  sports. 

The  more  high-spirited  among  the  youth  were,  about 
the  time  that  our  narrative  begins,  expecting,  rather 
with  hope  than  apprehension,  an  opportunity  of  emu- 
lating their  fathers  in  their  military  achievements,  the 
recital  of  which  formed  the  chief  part  of  their  amuse- 
ment within  doors.  The  passing  of  the  Scottish  Act  of 
Security  had  given  the  alarm  to  England,  as  it  seemed 
to  point  at  a  separation  of  the  two  British  kingdoms  after 
the  decease  of  Queen  Anne,  the  reigning  sovereign.  Go- 
dolphin,  then  at  the  head  of  the  English  administration, 
foresaw  that  there  was  no  other  mode  of  avoiding  the 
probable  extremity  of  a  civil  war  but  by  carrying  through 
an  incorporating  union.  How  that  treaty  was  managed, 
and  how  little  it  seemed  for  some  time  to  promise  the 
beneficial  results  which  have  since  taken  place  to  such 
extent,  may  be  learned  from  the  history  of  the  period. 
It  is  enough  for  our  purpose  to  say  that  all  Scotland  was 
indignant  at  the  terms  on  which  their  legislature  had 
surrendered  their  national  independence.  The  general 
resentment  led  to  the  strangest  leagues  and  to  the  wild- 
est plans.  The  Cameronians  were  about  to  take  arms 
for  the  restoration  of  the  house  of  Stuart,  whom  they 
regarded,  with  justice,  as  their  oppressors ;  and  the 

203 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


intrigues  of  the  period  presented  the  strange  picture  of 
Papists,  Prelatists,  and  Presbyterians  caballing  among 
themselves  against  the  English  government,  out  of  a 
common  feeling  that  their  country  had  been  treated 
with  injustice.  The  fermentation  was  universal;  and, 
as  the  population  of  Scotland  had  been  generally 
trained  to  arms  under  the  Act  of  Security,  they  were 
not  indifferently  prepared  for  war,  and  waited  but  the 
declaration  of  some  of  the  nobility  to  break  out  into 
open  hostility.  It  was  at  this  period  of  public  confu- 
sion that  our  story  opens. 

The  cleugh  or  wild  ravine  into  which  Hobbie  Elliot 
had  followed  the  game  was  already  far  behind  him,  and 
he  was  considerably  advanced  on  his  return  homeward, 
when  the  night  began  to  close  upon  him.  This  would 
have  been  a  circumstance  of  great  indifference  to  the  ex- 
perienced sportsman,  who  could  have  walked  blindfold 
over  every  inch  of  his  native  heaths,  had  it  not  happened 
near  a  spot  which,  according  to  the  traditions  of  the  coun- 
try, was  in  extremely  bad  fame,  as  haunted  by  supernat- 
ural appearances.  To  tales  of  this  kind  Hobbie  had  from 
his  childhood  lent  an  attentive  ear,  and  as  no  part  of  the 
country  afforded  such  a  variety  of  legends,  so  no  man 
was  more  deeply  read  in  their  fearful  lore  than  Hobbie  of 
the  Heughfoot;  for  so  our  gallant  was  called,  to  distin- 
guish him  from  a  round  dozen  of  Elliots  who  bore  the 
same  Christian  name.  It  cost  him  no  efforts,  therefore, 
to  call  to  memory  the  terrific  incidents  connected  with 
the  extensive  waste  upon  which  he  was  now  entering. 
In  fact,  they  presented  themselves  with  a  readiness 
which  he  felt  to  be  somewhat  dismaying. 

This  dreary  common  was  called  Mucklestane  Moor, 
204 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


from  a  huge  column  of  unhewn  granite  which  raised  its 
massy  head  on  a  knoll  near  the  centre  of  the  heath,  per- 
haps to  tell  of  the  mighty  dead  who  slept  beneath,  or  to 
preserve  the  memory  of  some  bloody  skirmish.  The  real 
cause  of  its  existence  had,  however,  passed  away;  and 
tradition,  which  is  as  frequently  an  inventor  of  fiction  as 
a  preserver  of  truth,  had  supplied  its  place  with  a  supple- 
mentary legend  of  her  own,  which  now  came  full  upon 
Hobble's  memory.  The  ground  about  the  pillar  was 
strewed,  or  rather  encumbered,  with  many  large  frag- 
ments of  stone  of  the  same  consistence  with  the  column, 
which,  from  their  appearance  as  they  lay  scattered  on 
the  waste,  were  popularly  called  the  Grey  Geese  of 
Mucklestane  Moor.  The  legend  accounted  for  this  name 
and  appearance  by  the  catastrophe  of  a  noted  and  most 
formidable  witch  who  frequented  these  hills  in  former 
days,  causing  the  ewes  to  'keb '  and  the  kine  to  cast  their 
calves,  and  performing  all  the  feats  of  mischief  ascribed 
to  these  evil  beings.  On  this  moor  she  used  to  hold  her 
revels  with  her  sister  hags;  and  rings  were  still  pointed 
out  on  which  no  grass  nor  heath  ever  grew,  the  turf  be- 
ing, as  it  were,  calcined  by  the  scorching  hoofs  of  their 
diabolical  partners. 

Once  upon  a  time  this  old  hag  is  said  to  have  crossed 
the  moor,  driving  before  her  a  flock  of  geese,  which  she 
proposed  to  sell  to  advantage  at  a  neighbouring  fair;  for 
it  is  well  known  that  the  fiend,  however  liberal  in  im- 
parting his  powers  of  doing  mischief,  ungenerously 
leaves  his  allies  under  the  necessity  of  performing  the 
meanest  rustic  labours  for  subsistence.  The  day  was  far 
advanced,  and  her  chance  of  obtaining  a  good  price  de- 
pended on  her  being  first  at  the  market.  But  the  geese, 

205 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


which  had  hitherto  preceded  her  in  a  pretty  orderly  man- 
ner, when  they  came  to  this  wide  common  interspersed 
with  marshes  and  pools  of  water,  scattered  in  every 
direction,  to  plunge  into  the  element  in  which  they 
delighted.  Incensed  at  the  obstinacy  with  which  they 
defied  all  her  efforts  to  collect  them,  and  not  remember- 
ing the  precise  terms  of  the  contract  by  which  the  fiend 
was  bound  to  obey  her  commands  for  a  certain  space, 
the  sorceress  exclaimed,  'Deevil,  that  neither  I  nor  they 
ever  stir  from  this  spot  more!'  The  words  were  hardly 
uttered  when,  by  a  metamorphosis  as  sudden  as  any  in 
Ovid  the  hag  and  her  refractory  flock  were  converted 
into  stone,  the  angel  whom  she  served,  being  a  strict 
formalist,  grasping  eagerly  at  an  opportunity  of  com- 
pleting the  ruin  of  her  body  and  soul  by  a  literal  obedi- 
ence to  her  orders.  It  is  said  that,  when  she  perceived 
and  felt  the  transformation  which  was  about  to  take 
place,  she  exclaimed  to  the  treacherous  fiend,  ^  Ah,  thou 
false  thief!  lang  hast  thou  promised  me  a  grey  gown, 
and  now  I  am  getting  one  that  will  last  for  ever.'  The 
dimensions  of  the  pillar  and  of  the  stones  were  often 
appealed  to  as  a  proof  of  the  superior  stature  and  size 
of  old  women  and  geese  in  the  days  of  other  years,  by 
those  praisers  of  the  past  who  held  the  comfortable 
opinion  of  the  gradual  degeneracy  of  mankind. 

All  particulars  of  this  legend  Hobbie  called  to  mind 
as  he  passed  along  the  moor.  He  also  remembered  that, 
since  the  catastrophe  had  taken  place,  the  scene  of  it 
had  been  avoided,  at  least  after  nightfall,  by  all  human 
beings,  as  being  the  ordinary  resort  of  kelpies,  spunkies, 
and  other  demons,  once  the  companions  of  the  witch's 
diabolical  revels,  and  now  continuing  to  rendezvous  upon 

206 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


the  same  spot,  as  if  still  in  attendance  on  their  trans- 
formed mistress.  Hobble's  natural  hardihood,  however, 
manfully  combated  with  these  intrusive  sensations  of 
awe.  He  summoned  to  his  side  the  brace  of  large  grey- 
hounds who  were  the  companions  of  his  sports,  and  who 
were  wont,  in  his  own  phrase,  to  fear  neither  dog  nor 
devil;  he  looked  at  the  priming  of  his  piece,  and,  like  the 
clown  in '  Hallowe'en '  whistled  up  the  warlike  ditty  of 
*  Jock  of  the  Side,'  as  a  general  causes  his  drums  to  beat 
to  inspirit  the  doubtful  courage  of  his  soldiers. 

In  this  state  of  mind  he  was  very  glad  to  hear  a  friendly 
voice  shout  in  his  rear,  and  propose  to  him  a  partner  on 
the  road.  He  slackened  his  pace,  and  was  quickly  joined 
by  a  youth  well  known  to  him,  a  gentleman  of  some  for- 
tune in  that  remote  country,  and  who  had  been  abroad 
on  the  same  errand  with  himself.  Young  Earnscliff,  'of 
that  ilk,'  had  lately  come  of  age  and  succeeded  to  a  mod- 
erate fortune,  a  good  deal  dilapidated  from  the  share  his 
family  had  taken  in  the  disturbances  of  the  period.  They 
were  much  and  generally  respected  in  the  country;  a  re- 
putation which  this  young  gentleman  seemed  likely  to 
sustain,  as  he  was  well  educated  and  of  excellent  dispo- 
sitions. 

'Now,  EarnscHflf,'  exclaimed  Hobbie,  'I  am  glad  to 
meet  your  honour  ony  gate,  and  company 's  blythe  on  a 
bare  moor  like  this;  it's  an  unco  bogilly  bit.  Where  hae 
ye  been  sporting? ' 

'Up  the  Carla  Cleugh,  Hobbie,'  answered  Earnscliff, 
returning  his  greeting.  'But  will  our  dogs  keep  the 
peace,  think  you? ' 

'Deil  a  fear  o'  mine,'  said  Hobbie,  'they  hae  scarce  a 
leg  to  stand  on.  Od!  the  deer 's  fled  the  country,  I  think! 

207 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


I  have  been  as  far  as  Inger  Fell  foot,  and  deil  a  horn  has 
Hobbie  seen,  excepting  three  red  wud  raes,  that  never 
let  me  within  shot  of  them,  though  I  gaed  a  mile  round 
to  get  up  the  wind  to  them,  an'  a'.  Deil  o'  me  wad  care 
muckle,  only  I  wanted  some  venison  to  our  auld  gude- 
dame.  The  carline,  she  sits  in  the  neuk  yonder  upbye, 
and  cracks  about  the  grand  shooters  and  hunters  lang 
syne.  Od,  I  think  they  hae  killed  a*  the  deer  in  the 
country,  for  my  part.' 

*  Well,  Hobbie,  I  have  shot  a  fat  buck  and  sent  him  to 
Earnscliff  this  morning;  you  shall  have  half  of  him  for 
your  grandmother.' 

*  Mony  thanks  to  ye,  Mr.  Patrick;  ye 're  kend  to  a'  the 
country  for  a  kind  heart.  It  will  do  the  auld  wife's  heart 
gude,  mair  by  token  when  she  kens  it  comes  f  rae  you ;  and 
maist  of  a'  gin  ye '11  come  up  and  take  your  share,  for  I 
reckon  ye  are  lonesome  now  in  the  auld  tower,  and  a' 
your  folk  at  that  weary  Edinburgh.  I  wonder  what  they 
can  find  to  do  amang  a  wheen  ranks  o'  stane  houses  wi' 
slate  on  the  tap  o'  them,  that  might  live  on  their  ain 
bonny  green  hills.' 

'My  education  and  my  sisters'  has  kept  my  mother 
much  in  Edinburgh  for  several  years,'  said  Earnscliff, 
'but  I  promise  you  I  propose  to  make  up  for  lost 
time.' 

'And  ye '11  rig  out  the  auld  tower  a  bit,'  said  Hobbie, 
'and  live  hearty  and  neighbour-like  wi'  the  auld  family 
friends,  as  the  Laird  o'  Earnscliff  should?  I  can  tell  ye, 
my  mother  —  my  grandmother,  I  mean;  but,  since  we 
lost  our  ain  mother,  we  ca'  her  sometimes  the  tane  and 
sometimes  the  tother —  but,  ony  gate,  she  conceits  her- 
sell  no  that  distant  connected  wi'  you.' 

208 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


'Very  true,  Hobbie,  and  I  will  come  to  the  Heughfoot 
to  dinner  to-morrow  with  all  my  heart.' 

^  Weel,  that 's  kindly  said !  We  are  auld  neighbours,  an 
we  were  nae  kin;  and  my  gude-dame's  fain  to  see  you; 
she  clavers  about  your  father  that  was  killed  lang  syne.' 

^Hush,  hush,  Hobbie, not  a  word  about  that;  it's  a 
story  better  forgotten.' 

*I  dinna  ken;  if  it  had  chanced  amang  our  folk,  we 
wad  hae  keepit  it  in  mind  mony  a  day  till  we  got  some 
mends  for't;  but  ye  ken  your  ain  ways  best,  you  lairds. 
I  have  heard  say  that  EUieslaw's  friend  stickit  your  sire 
after  the  Laird  himsell  had  mastered  his  sword.' 

*Fie,  fie,  Hobbie;  it  was  a  foolish  brawl,  occasioned  by 
wine  and  politics;  many  swords  were  drawn,  it  is  impos- 
sible to  say  who  struck  the  blow.' 

^  At  ony  rate,  auld  EUieslaw  was  aiding  and  abetting; 
and  I  am  sure  if  ye  were  sae  disposed  as  to  take  amends 
on  him,  naebody  could  say  it  was  wrang,  for  your  fa- 
ther's blood  is  beneath  his  nails;  and  besides,  there's 
naebody  else  left  that  was  concerned  to  take  amends 
upon,  and  he 's  a  Prelatist  and  a  Jacobite  into  the  bar- 
gain. I  can  tell  ye  the  country  folk  look  for  something 
atween  ye.' 

^  O  for  shame,  Hobbie ! '  replied  the  young  Laird ;  ^ you, 
that  profess  religion,  to  stir  your  friend  up  to  break  the 
law,  and  take  vengeance  at  his  own  hand,  and  in  such  a 
bogilly  bit  too,  where  we  know  not  what  beings  may  be 
listening  to  us!' 

'Hush,  hush!'  said  Hobbie,  drawing  nearer  to  his 
companion,  'I  was  nae  thinking  o'  the  like  o'  them.  But 
I  can  guess  a  wee  bit  what  keeps  your  hand  up,  Mr. 
Patrick;  we  a'  ken  it's  no  lack  o'  courage,  but  the  twa 


6 


209 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


grey  een  of  a  bonny  lass,  Miss  Isabel  Vere,  that  keeps 
you  sae  sober.' 

*I  assure  you,  Hobbie,'  said  his  companion,  rather  an- 
grily —  assure  you,  you  are  mistaken;  and  it  is  ex- 
tremely wrong  of  you  either  to  think  of  or  to  utter  such 
an  idea.  I  have  no  idea  of  permitting  freedoms  to  be 
carried  so  far  as  to  connect  my  name  with  that  of  any 
young  lady.' 

*  Why,  there  now  —  there  now! '  retorted  Elliot;  ^did  I 
not  say  it  was  nae  want  o'  spunk  that  made  ye  sae  mim? 
Weel,  weel,  I  meant  nae  offence ;  but  there 's  just  ae  thing 
ye  may  notice  frae  a  friend.  The  auld  Laird  of  Ellies- 
law  has  the  auld  riding  blood  far  better  at  his  heart  than 
ye  hae:  troth,  he  kens  naething  about  thae  newfangled 
notions  o'  peace  and  quietness;  he 's  a'  for  the  auld-warld 
doings  o'  Kfting  and  laying  on,  and  he  has  a  wheen  stout 
lads  at  his  back  too,  and  keeps  them  weel  up  in  heart, 
and  as  fu'  o'  mischief  as  young  colts.  Where  he  gets  the 
gear  to  do 't,  nane  can  say;  he  lives  high,  and  far  abune 
his  rents  here;  however,  he  pays  his  way.  Sae, if  there 's 
ony  outbreak  in  the  country,  he 's  Hkely  to  break  out  wi' 
the  first.  And  weel  does  he  mind  the  auld  quarrels  be- 
tween ye.  I'm  surmising  he'll  be  for  a  touch  at  the  auld 
tower  at  Earnscliff.' 

^  Well,  Hobbie,'  answered  the  young  gentleman,  'if  he 
should  be  so  ill  advised,  I  shall  try  to  make  the  old  tower 
good  against  him,  as  it  has  been  made  good  by  my  bet- 
ters against  his  betters  many  a  day  ago.' 

'Very  right — very  right;  that 's  speaking  like  a  man 
now,'  said  the  stout  yeoman;  'and,  if  sae  should  be  that 
this  be  sae,  if  ye  '11  just  gar  your  servant  jow  out  the  great 
bell  in  the  tower,  there 's  me  and  my  twa  brothers  and 

2IO 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


little  Davie  of  the  Stenhouse  will  be  wi'  you,  wi' 
the  power  we  can  make,  in  the  snapping  of  a  flint.' 

^Many  thanks,  Hobbie,'  answered  Earnscliff;  'but  I 
hope  we  shall  have  no  war  of  so  unnatural  and  unchris- 
tian a  kind  in  our  time.' 

'Hout,  sir,  hout/  replied  Elliot;  'it  wad  be  but  a  wee 
bit  neighbour  war,  and  Heaven  and  earth  would  make 
allowances  for  it  in  this  uncultivated  place.  It 's  just  the 
nature  o'  the  folk  and  the  land:  we  canna  live  quiet  like 
London  folk,  wehaenasae  muckle  to  do.  It 's  impossible.' 

'Well,  Hobbie,'  said  the  Laird,  'for  one  who  believes 
so  deeply  as  you  do  in  supernatural  appearances,  I  must 
own  you  take  Heaven  in  your  own  hand  rather  auda- 
ciously, considering  where  we  are  walking.' 

'What  needs  I  care  for  the  Mucklestane  Moor  ony 
mair  than  ye  do  yoursell,  Earnscliff? '  said  Hobbie,  some- 
thing offended; '  to  be  sure,  they  do  say  there 's  a  sort  o' 
worricows  and  lang-nebbit  things  about  the  land,  but 
what  need  I  care  for  them?  I  hae  a  good  conscience,  and 
little  to  answer  for,  unless  it  be  about  a  rant  amang  the 
lasses  or  a  splore  at  a  fair,  and  that 's  no  muckle  to  speak 
of.  Though  I  say  it  mysell,  I  am  as  quiet  a  lad  and  as 
peaceable  — ' 

'And  Dick  TurnbuU's  head  that  you  broke,  and  Willie 
of  Winton  whom  you  shot  at? '  said  his  travelling  com- 
panion. 

'Hout,  Earnscliff,  ye  keep  a  record  of  a'  men's  mis- 
doings. Dick's  head's  healed  again,  and  we're  to  fight 
out  the  quarrel  at  Jeddart  on  the  Rood-day,  so  that 's 
like  a  thing  settled  in  a  peaceable  way;  and  then  I  am 
friends  wi'  Willie  again,  puir  chield,  it  was  but  twa  or 
three  hail-draps  after  a'.  I  wad  let  ony  body  do  the  like 

211 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


o't  to  me  for  a  pint  o'  brandy.  But  Willie 's  Lowland 
bred,  poor  fallow,  and  soon  frighted  for  himsell.  And  for 
the  worricows,  were  we  to  meet  ane  on  this  very  bit  — ' 

^As  is  not  unlikely,'  said  young  Earnscliff,  ^for  there 
stands  your  old  witch,  Hobbie.' 

*I  say,'  continued  Elliot,  as  if  indignant  at  this  hint  — 
'I  say,  if  the  auld  carline  hersell  was  to  get  up  out  o'  the 
grund  just  before  us  here,  I  would  think  nae  mair  — 
But,  Gude  preserve  us,  Earnscliff,  what  can  yon  beP 


CHAPTER  III 


Brown  Dwarf,  that  o'er  the  moorland  strays, 

Thy  name  to  Keeldar  tell  I 
•The  Brown  Man  of  the  Moor,  that  stays 

Beneath  the  heather-bell. 

John  Leyden. 

The  object  which  alarmed  the  young  farmer  in  the  mid- 
dle of  his  valorous  protestations  startled  for  a  moment 
even  his  less  prejudiced  companion.  The  moon,  which 
had  arisen  during  their  conversation,  was,  in  the  phrase 
of  that  country,  wading  or  struggling  with  clouds,  and 
shed  only  a  doubtful  and  occasional  light.  By  one  of  her 
beams,  which  streamed  upon  the  great  granite  column 
to  which  they  now  approached,  they  discovered  a  form, 
apparently  human,  but  of  a  size  much  less  than  ordin- 
ary, which  moved  slowly  among  the  large  grey  stones, 
not  like  a  person  intending  to  journey  onward,  but  with 
the  slow,  irregular,  flitting  movement  of  a  being  who 
hovers  around  some  spot  of  melancholy  recollection,  ut- 
tering also,  from  time  to  time,  a  sort  of  indistinct  mut- 
tering sound.  This  so  much  resembled  his  idea  of  the 
motions  of  an  apparition,  that  Hobbie  Elliot,  making  a 
dead  pause,  while  his  hair  erected  itself  upon  his  scalp, 
whispered  to  his  companion,  *It's  auld  Ailie  hersell! 
Shall  I  gie  her  a  shot,  in  the  name  of  God?' 

*For  Heaven's  sake,  no,'  said  his  companion,  holding 
down  the  weapon  which  he  was  about  to  raise  to  the  aim 
—  *for  Heaven's  sake,  no;  it's  some  poor  distracted 
creature.' 


213 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


'Ye 're  distracted  yoursell,  for  thinking  of  going  so 
near  to  her/  said  Elliot,  holding  his  companion  in  his 
turn,  as  he  prepared  to  advance.  '  We  '11  aye  hae  time  to 
pit  ower  a  bit  prayer  —  an  I  could  but  mind  ane  —  afore 
she  comes  this  length.  God !  she 's  in  nae  hurry/  continued 
he,  growing  bolder  from  his  companion's  confidence,  and 
the  little  notice  the  apparition  seemed  to  take  of  them. 
*  She  hirples  like  a  hen  on  a  het  girdle.  I  redd  ye,  Earns- 
cliff  (this  he  added  in  a  gentle  whisper),  let  us  take  a  cast 
about,  as  if  to  draw  the  wind  on  a  buck.  The  bog  is  no 
abune  knee-deep,  and  better  a  saf  t  road  as  bad  company.' 

EarnscUff ,  however,  in  spite  of  his  companion's  resist- 
ance and  remonstrances,  continued  to  advance  on  the 
path  they  had  originally  pursued,  and  soon  confronted 
the  object  of  their  investigation. 

The  height  of  the  figure,  which  appeared  even  to  de- 
crease as  they  approached  it,  seemed  to  be  under  four 
feet,  and  its  form,  as  far  as  the  imperfect  light  afforded 
them  the  means  of  discerning,  was  very  nearly  as  broad 
as  long,  or  rather  of  a  spherical  shape,  which  could  only 
be  occasioned  by  some  strange  personal  deformity.  The 
young  sportsman  hailed  this  extraordinary  appearance 
twice,  without  receiving  any  answer,  or  attending  to  the 
pinches  by  which  his  companion  endeavoured  to  inti- 
mate that  their  best  course  was  to  walk  on,  without  giv- 
ing farther  disturbance  to  a  being  of  such  singular  and 
preternatural  exterior.  To  the  third  repeated  demand  of 
^  Who  are  you?  What  do  you  here  at  this  hour  of  night? ' 
a  voice  replied,  whose  shrill,  uncouth,  and  dissonant 
tones  made  Elliot  step  two  paces  back,  and  startled  even 
his  companion,  ^Pass  on  your  way,  and  ask  nought  at 
them  that  ask  nought  at  you.' 

214 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


*What  do  you  do  here,  so  far  from  shelter?  Are  you 
benighted  on  your  journey?  Will  you  follow  us  home 
('God forbid!'  ejaculated  Hobbie  Elliot, involuntarily), 
and  I  will  give  you  a  lodging?' 

*I  would  sooner  lodge  by  mysell  in  the  deepest  of  the 
Tarras  flow,'  again  whispered  Hobbie. 

'Pass  on  your  way,'  rejoined  the  figure,  the  harsh  tones 
of  his  voice  still  more  exalted  by  passion.  'I  want  not 
your  guidance,  I  want  not  your  lodging;  it  is  five  years 
since  my  head  was  under  a  human  roof,  and  I  trust  it 
was  for  the  last  time.' 

'He  is  mad,'  said  Earnscliff. 

'He  has  a  look  of  auld  Humphrey  Ettercap,  the  tink- 
ler, that  perished  in  this  very  moss  about  five  years  syne,' 
answered  his  superstitious  companion;  'but  Humphrey 
wasna  that  awfu'  big  in  the  bouk.' 

'Pass  on  your  way,'  reiterated  the  object  of  their  curi- 
osity; 'the  breath  of  your  human  bodies  poisons  the  air 
around  me,  the  sound  of  your  human  voices  goes  through 
my  ears  like  sharp  bodkins.' 

'Lord  safe  us!'  whispered  Hobbie,  'that  the  dead 
should  bear  sic  fearfu'  ill-will  to  the  living!  His  saul 
maun  be  in  a  puir  way,  I'm  jealous.' 

*  Come,  my  friend,'  said  Earnscliff,  'you  seem  to  suffer 
under  some  strong  affliction;  common  humanity  will  not 
allow  us  to  leave  you  here.' 

'Common  humanity!'  exclaimed  the  being,  with  a 
scornful  laugh  that  sounded  like  a  shriek,  'where 
got  ye  that  catch- word  —  that  noose  for  woodcocks 
—  that  common  disguise  for  man-traps  —  that  bait 
which  the  wretched  idiot  who  swallows  will  soon  find 
covers  a  hook  with  barbs  ten  times  sharper  than  those 

215 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


you  lay  for  the  animals  which  you  murder  for  your 
luxury!' 

'I  tell  you,  my  friend,'  again  replied  Earnscliff,  ^you 
are  incapable  of  judging  of  your  own  situation;  you  will 
perish  in  this  wilderness,  and  we  must,  in  compassion, 
force  you  along  with  us.' 

^I'll  hae  neither  hand  nor  foot  in 't,'  said  Hobbie;  'let 
the  ghaist  take  his  ain  way,  for  God's  sake!' 

'My  blood  be  on  my  own  head,  if  I  perish  here,'  said 
the  figure;  and,  observing  Earnscliff  meditating  to  lay 
hold  on  him,  he  added,  'And  your  blood  be  upon  yours, 
if  you  touch  but  the  skirt  of  my  garments,  to  infect  me 
with  the  taint  of  mortality ! ' 

The  moon  shone  more  brightly  as  he  spoke  thus,  and 
Earnscliff  observed  that  he  held  out  his  right  hand  armed 
with  some  weapon  of  offence,  which  glittered  in  the  cold 
ray  like  the  blade  of  a  long  knife  or  the  barrel  of  a  pistol. 
It  would  have  been  madness  to  persevere  in  his  attempt 
upon  a  being  thus  armed,  and  holding  such  desperate 
language,  especially  as  it  was  plain  he  would  have  little 
aid  from  his  companion,  who  had  fairly  left  him  to  settle 
matters  with  the  apparition  as  he  could,  and  had  pro- 
ceeded a  few  paces  on  his  way  homeward.  Earnscliff, 
therefore,  turned  and  followed  Hobbie,  after  looking 
back  towards  the  supposed  maniac,  who,  as  if  raised  to 
frenzy  by  the  interview,  roamed  wildly  around  the  great 
stone,  exhausting  his  voice  in  shrieks  and  imprecations, 
that  thrilled  wildly  along  the  waste  heath. 

The  two  sportsmen  moved  on  some  time  in  silence,  un- 
til they  were  out  of  hearing  of  these  uncouth  sounds, 
which  was  not  ere  they  had  gained  a  considerable  dis- 
tance from  the  pillar  that  gave  name  to  the  moor.  Each 

216 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


made  his  private  comments  on  the  scene  they  had  wit- 
nessed, until  Hobbie  Elliot  suddenly  exclaimed,  *Weel, 
I'll  uphaud  that  yon  ghaist,  if  it  be  a  ghaist,  has  baith 
done  and  suffered  muckle  evil  in  the  flesh,  that  gars  him 
rampauge  in  that  way  after  he  is  dead  and  gane.' 

^It  seems  to  me  the  very  madness  of  misanthropy/ 
said  Earnscliff,  following  his  own  current  of  thought. 

*  And  ye  didna  think  it  was  a  spiritual  creature,  then?' 
asked  Hobbie  at  his  companion. 

'Who,  I?  No,  surely.' 

'  Weel,  I  am  partly  of  the  mind  mysell  that  it  may  be  a 
live  thing;  and  yet  I  dinna  ken,  I  wadna  wish  to  see  ony 
thing  look  liker  a  bogle.' 

*At  any  rate,'  said  Earnscliff,  will  ride  over  to-mor- 
row, and  see  what  has  become  of  the  unhappy  being.' 

'  In  fair  daylight? '  queried  the  yeoman ; '  then,  grace  o' 
God,  I  'se  be  wi'  ye.  But  here  we  are  nearer  to  Heugh- 
foot  than  to  your  house  by  twa  mile;  hadna  ye  better 
e'en  gae  hame  wi'  me,  and  we'll  send  the  callant  on  the 
powny  to  tell  them  that  you  are  wi'  us,  though  I  believe 
there 's  naebody  at  hame  to  wait  for  you  but  the  serv- 
ants and  the  cat.' 

'Have  with  you  then,  friend  Hobbie,'  said  the  young 
hunter;  'and,  as  I  would  not  willingly  have  either  the 
servants  be  anxious  or  puss  forfeit  her  supper  in  my 
absence,  I'll  be  obliged  to  you  to  send  the  boy  as  you 
propose.' 

'  Aweel,  that  is  kind,  I  must  say.  And  ye '11  gae  hame 
to  Heughfoot?  They'll  be  right  blythe  to  see  you,  that 
will  they.' 

This  affair  settled,  they  walked  briskly  on  a  little  far- 
ther, when,  coming  to  the  ridge  of  a  pretty  steep  hill, 

217 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


Hobbie  Elliot  exclaimed/ Now,  Earnscliff,  I  am  aye  glad 
when  I  come  to  this  very  bit.  Ye  see  the  light  below? 
that 's  in  the  ha'  window,  where  grannie,  the  gash  auld 
carline,  is  sitting  birling  at  her  wheel.  And  ye  see  yon 
other  light  that 's  gaun  whiddin'  back  and  f orrit  through 
amang  the  windows?  that 's  my  cousin,  Grace  Armstrong. 
She 's  twice  as  clever  about  the  house  as  my  sisters,  and 
sae  they  say  themsells,  for  they're  good-natured  lasses 
as  ever  trode  on  heather;  but  they  confess  themsells,  and 
sae  does  grannie,  that  she  has  far  maist  action,  and  is  the 
best  goer  about  the  toun,  now  that  grannie  is  off  the  foot 
herselL  My  brothers,  ane  o'  them 's  away  to  wait  upon 
the  chamberlain,  and  ane 's  at  Moss  Phadraig,  that 's  our 
led  farm;  he  can  see  after  the  stock  just  as  weel  as  I  can 
do.' 

*You  are  lucky,  my  good  friend,  in  having  so  many 
valuable  relations.' 

'  Troth  am  I.  Grace  mak  me  thankful,  I  'se  never  deny 
it.  But  will  ye  tell  me  now,  Earnscliff,  you  that  have 
been  at  college  and  the  High  School  of  Edinburgh,  and 
got  a'  sort  o'  lair  where  it  was  to  be  best  gotten  —  will  ye 
tell  me,  no  that  it 's  ony  concern  of  mine  in  particular; 
but  I  heard  the  priest  of  St.  John's  and  our  minister 
bargaining  about  it  at  the  Winter  Fair,  and  troth  they 
baith  spak  very  weel.  Now,  the  priest  says  it 's  unlawful 
to  marry  ane's  cousin;  but  I  cannot  say  I  thought  he 
brought  out  the  Gospel  authorities  half  sae  weel  as  our 
minister;  our  minister  is  thought  the  best  divine  and 
the  best  preacher  atween  this  and  Edinburgh.  Dinna 
ye  think  he  was  likely  to  be  right? ' 

'  Certainly  marriage,  by  all  Protestant  Christians,  is 
held  to  be  as  free  as  God  made  it  by  the  Levitical  law; 

218 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


so,  Hobbie,  there  can  be  no  bar,  legal  or  religious,  be- 
twixt you  and  Miss  Armstrong.' 

'Hout  awa'  wi'  your  joking,  Earnscliff,'  replied  his 
companion;  ^ye  are  angry  eneugh  yoursell  if  ane  touches 
you  a  bit,  man,  on  the  sooth  side  of  the  jest.  No  that  I 
was  asking  the  question  about  Grace,  for  ye  maun  ken 
she 's  no  my  cousin-germain  out  and  out,  but  the  daugh- 
ter of  my  uncle's  wife  by  her  first  marriage;  so  she 's  nae 
kith  nor  kin  to  me,  only  a  connexion  like.  But  now  we're 
at  the  sheeling  hill.  I  '11  fire  off  my  gun  to  let  them  ken 
I'm  coming,  that's  aye  my  way;  and  if  I  hae  a  deer  I  gie 
them  twa  shots,  ane  for  the  deer  and  ane  for  myselL' 

He  fired  off  his  piece  accordingly,  and  a  niunber  of 
lights  were  seen  to  traverse  the  house,  and  even  to  gleam 
before  it.  Hobbie  Elliot  pointed  out  one  of  these  to  Eams- 
cliff ,  which  seemed  to  glide  from  the  house  towards  some 
of  the  out-houses.  'That's  Grace  hersell,'  said  Hobbie. 
'She'll  no  meet  me  at  the  door,  I'se  warrant  her;  but 
she'll  be  awa',  for  a'  that,  to  see  if  my  hounds'  supper 
be  ready,  poor  beasts.' 

'Love  me,  love  my  dog,'  answered  Earnscliff.  'Ah, 
Hobbie,  you  are  a  lucky  young  fellow!' 

This  observation  was  uttered  with  something  like  a 
sigh,  which  apparently  did  not  escape  the  ear  of  his 
companion. 

'Hout,  other  folk  may  be  as  lucky  as  I  am.  0  how  I 
have  seen  Miss  Isabel  Vere's  head  turn  after  somebody 
when  they  passed  ane  another  at  the  Carlisle  races !  Wha 
kens  but  things  may  come  round  in  this  world?' 

Earnscliff  muttered  something  like  an  answer;  but 
whether  in  assent  to  the  proposition  or  rebuking  the 
application  of  it  could  not  easily  be  discovered;  and  it 

219 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


seems  probable  that  the  speaker  himself  was  willing  his 
meaning  should  rest  in  doubt  and  obscurity.  They  had 
now  descended  the  broad  loaning,  which,  winding  round 
the  foot  of  the  steep  bank  or  heugh,  brought  them  in 
front  of  the  thatched  but  comfortable  farmhouse  which 
was  the  dwelling  of  Hobbie  Elliot  and  his  family. 

The  doorway  was  thronged  with  joyful  faces;  but  the 
appearance  of  a  stranger  blunted  many  a  gibe  which  had 
been  prepared  on  Hobbie 's  lack  of  success  in  the  deer- 
stalking. There  was  a  little  bustle  among  three  hand- 
some young  women,  each  endeavouring  to  devolve  upon 
another  the  task  of  ushering  the  stranger  into  the  apart- 
ment, while  probably  all  were  anxious  to  escape  for  the 
purpose  of  making  some  little  personal  arrangements, 
before  presenting  themselves  to  a  young  gentleman  in 
a  dishabille  only  intended  for  their  brother. 

Hobbie,  in  the  meanwhile,  bestowing  some  hearty  and 
general  abuse  upon  them  all  (for  Grace  was  not  of  the 
party),  snatched  the  candle  from  the  hand  of  one  of  the 
rustic  coquettes  as  she  stood  playing  pretty  with  it  in  her 
hand,  and  ushered  his  guest  into  the  family  parlour,  or 
rather  hall;  for  the  place  having  been  a  house  of  defence 
in  former  times,  the  sitting  apartment  was  a  vaulted  and 
paved  room,  damp  and  dismal  enough  compared  with 
the  lodgings  of  the  yeomanry  of  our  days,  but  which, 
when  well  lighted  up  with  a  large  sparkling  fire  of  turf 
and  bog-wood,  seemed  to  Earnscliff  a  most  comfortable 
exchange  for  the  darkness  and  bleak  blast  of  the  hill. 
Kindly  and  repeatedly  was  he  welcomed  by  the  venera- 
ble old  dame,  the  mistress  of  the  family,  who,  dressed  in 
her  coif  and  pinners,  her  close  and  decent  gown  of  home- 
spun wool,  but  with  a  large  gold  necklace  and  ear-rings, 


220 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


looked  what  she  really  was,  the  lady  as  well  as  the  farm- 
er's wife,  while,  seated  in  her  chair  of  wicker  by  the  cor- 
ner of  the  great  chimney,  she  directed  the  evening  occu- 
pations of  the  young  women,  and  of  two  or  three  stout 
serving  wenches,  who  sate  plying  their  distaffs  behind 
the  backs  of  their  young  mistresses. 

As  soon  as  Earnscliff  had  been  duly  welcomed,  and 
hasty  orders  issued  for  some  addition  to  the  evening 
meal,  his  grand-dame  and  sisters  opened  their  battery 
upon  Hobbie  Elliot  for  his  lack  of  success  against  the 
deer. 

*  Jenny  needna  have  kept  up  her  kitchen  fire  for 
that  Hobbie  has  brought  hame,'  said  one  sister. 

'Troth  no,  lass,'  said  another;  Hhe  gathering  peat,  if 
it  was  weel  blawn,  wad  dress  a'  our  Hobble's  venison.' 

*Ay,  or  the  low  of  the  candle,  if  the  wind  wad  let  it 
bide  steady,'  said  a  third.  'If  I  were  him  I  would  bring 
hame  a  black  craw  rather  than  come  back  three  times 
without  a  buck's  horn  to  blaw  on.' 

Hobbie  turned  from  the  one  to  the  other,  regarding 
them  alternately  with  a  frown  on  his  brow,  the  augury 
of  which  was  confuted  by  the  good-humoured  laugh  on 
the  lower  part  of  his  countenance.  He  then  strove  to 
propitiate  them  by  mentioning  the  intended  present  of 
his  companion. 

'In  my  young  days,'  said  the  old  lady,  'a  man  wad 
hae  been  ashamed  to  come  back  frae  the  hill  without  a 
buck  hanging  on  each  side  o'  his  horse,  like  a  cadger  car- 
rying calves.' 

'I  wish  they  had  left  some  for  us  then,  grannie,'  re- 
torted Hobbie;  'they 've  cleared  the  country  o'  them, 
thae  auld  friends  o'  yours,  I'm  thinking.' 

221 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


'Ye  see  other  folk  can  find  game  though  you  cannot, 
Hobbie/  said  the  eldest  sister,  glancing  a  look  at  young 
Earnscliff. 

'  Weel,  weel,  woman,  hasna  every  dog  his  day?  begging 
Earnscliff 's  pardon  for  the  auld  saying.  Mayna  I  hae  his 
luck  and  he  mine  another  time  ?  It's  a  braw  thing  for 
a  man  to  be  out  a'  day,  and  frighted  —  na,  I  winna  say 
that  neither  —  but  mistrysted  wi'  bogles  in  the  hame- 
coming,  an'  then  to  hae  to  flyte  wi'  a  wheen  women  that 
hae  been  doing  naething  a'  the  hvelang  day  but  whirling 
a  bit  stick  wi'  a  thread  trailing  at  it,  or  boring  at  a  clout/ 

^Frighted  wi'  bogles!'  exclaimed  the  females,  one  and 
all;  for  great  was  the  regard  then  paid,  and  perhaps  still 
paid,  in  these  glens  to  all  such  fantasies. 

'I  did  not  say  frighted,  now;  I  only  said  mis-set  wi* 
the  thing.  And  there  was  but  ae  bogle,  neither.  Earns- 
cliff, ye  saw  it  as  weel  as  I  did?' 

And  he  proceeded,  without  very  much  exaggeration, 
to  detail  in  his  own  way  the  meeting  they  had  with  the 
mysterious  being  at  Mucklestane  Moor,  concluding,  he 
could  not  conjecture  what  on  earth  it  could  be,  ^unless  it 
was  either  the  Enemy  himsell  or  some  of  the  auld  Peghts 
that  held  the  country  lang  syne.' 

^Auld  Peght!'  exclaimed  the  grand-dame;  'na,  na. 
Bless  thee  frae  scathe,  my  bairn,  it 's  been  nae  Peght  that; 
it's  been  the  Brown  Man  of  the  Moors!  O  weary  fa' 
thae  evil  days!  what  can  evil  beings  be  coming  for  to  dis- 
tract a  poor  country,  now  it 's  peacefully  settled  and  liv- 
ing in  love  and  law?  O  weary  on  him!  he  ne'er  brought 
gude  to  these  lands  or  the  indwellers.  My  father  aften 
tauld  me  he  was  seen  in  the  year  o'  the  bloody  fight  at 
Marston  Moor,  and  then  again  in  Montrose's  troubles, 


222 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


and  again  before  the  rout  o'  Dunbar;  and,  in  my  ain 
time,  he  was  seen  about  the  time  o'  Both  well  Brig;  and 
they  said  the  second-sighted  Laird  of  Benarbuck  had  a 
communing  wi'  him  some  time  afore  Argyle's  landing, 
but  that  I  cannot  speak  to  sae  preceesely,  it  was  far  in 
the  west.  O,  bairns,  he 's  never  permitted  but  in  an  ill 
time,  sae  mind  ilka  ane  o'  ye  to  draw  to  Him  that  can 
help  in  the  day  of  trouble.' 

Earnscliff  now  interposed,  and  expressed  his  firm  con- 
viction that  the  person  they  had  seen  was  some  poor 
maniac,  and  had  no  commission  from  the  invisible  world 
to  announce  either  war  or  evil.  But  his  opinion  found 
a  very  cold  audience,  and  all  joined  to  deprecate  his 
purpose  of  returning  to  the  spot  the  next  day. 

*0,  my  bonny  bairn,'  said  the  old  dame,  for,  in  the 
kindness  of  her  heart,  she  extended  her  parental  style  to 
all  in  whom  she  was  interested,  *you  should  beware  mair 
than  other  folk.  There 's  been  a  heavy  breach  made  in 
your  house  wi'  your  father's  bloodshed,  and  wi'  law  pleas 
and  losses  sinsyne;  and  you  are  the  flower  of  the  flock, 
and  the  lad  that  will  build  up  the  auld  bigging  again  — 
if  it  be  His  will  —  to  be  an  honour  to  the  country  and  a 
safeguard  to  those  that  dwell  in  it.  You,  before  others, 
are  called  upon  to  put  yoursell  in  no  rash  adventures; 
for  yours  was  aye  ower- venturesome  a  race,  and  muckle 
harm  they  have  got  by  it.' 

'But  I  am  sure,  my  good  friend,  you  would  not  have 
me  be  afraid  of  going  to  an  open  moor  in  broad  day- 
light?' 

*I  dinna  ken,'  said  the  good  old  dame;  'I  wad  never 
bid  son  or  friend  o'  mine  haud  their  hand  back  in  a  gude 
cause,  whether  it  were  a  friend's  or  their  ain;  that  should 


223 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


be  by  nae  bidding  of  mine,  or  of  ony  body  that 's  come  of 
a  gentle  kindred.  But  it  winna  gang  out  of  a  grey  head 
like  mine  that  to  gang  to  seek  for  evil  that 's  no  fashing 
wi'  you  is  clean  against  law  and  Scripture.' 

Earnscliff  resigned  an  argument  which  he  saw  no  pro- 
spect of  maintaining  with  good  effect,  and  the  entrance  of 
supper  broke  off  the  conversation.  Miss  Grace  had  by 
this  time  made  her  appearance,  and  Hobbie,  not  with- 
out a  conscious  glance  at  Earnscliff,  placed  himself  by 
her  side.  Mirth  and  lively  conversation,  in  which  the 
old  lady  of  the  house  took  the  good-humoured  share 
which  so  well  becomes  old  age,  restored  to  the  cheeks  of 
the  damsels  the  roses  which  their  brother's  tale  of  the 
apparition  had  chased  away,  and  they  danced  and  sung 
for  an  hour  after  supper  as  if  there  were  no  such  things 
as  goblins  in  the  world. 


CHAPTER  IV 


I  am  Misanthropes,  and  hate  mankind; 
For  thy  part,  I  do  wish  thou  wert  a  dog. 
That  I  might  love  thee  something. 

Timon  of  Athens, 

On  the  following  morning,  after  breakfast,  Earnscliff 
took  leave  of  his  hospitable  friends,  promising  to  return 
in  time  to  partake  of  the  venison,  which  had  arrived 
from  his  house.  Hobbie,  who  apparently  took  leave  of 
him  at  the  door  of  his  habitation,  slunk  out,  however, 
and  joined  him  at  the  top  of  the  hill. 

*  Ye  '11  be  gaun  yonder,  Mr.  Patrick;  fient  o'  me  will 
mistryst  you  for  a'  my  mother  says.  I  thought  it  best 
to  slip  out  quietly  though,  in  case  she  should  mislippen 
something  of  what  we're  gaun  to  do;  we  maunna  vex 
her  at  nae  rate,  it  was  amaist  the  last  word  my  father 
said  to  me  on  his  death-bed.' 

*By  no  means,  Hobbie,'  said  Earnscliff;  'she  well 
merits  all  your  attention.' 

*  Troth,  for  that  matter,  she  would  be  as  sair  vexed 
amaist  for  you  as  for  me.  But  d'  ye  really  think  there 's 
nae  presumption  in  venturing  back  yonder?  We  hae 
nae  special  commission,  ye  ken.' 

'If  I  thought  as  you  do,  Hobbie,'  said  the  young  gen- 
tleman, 'I  would  not  perhaps  inquire  farther  into  this 
business;  but,  as  I  am  of  opinion  that  preternatural  vis- 
itations are  either  ceased  altogether  or  become  very 
rare  in  our  days,  I  am  unwilling  to  leave  a  matter  unin- 
vestigated which  may  concern  the  life  of  a  poor  dis- 
tracted being.' 

6  225 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


^  Aweel,  aweel,  if  ye  really  think  that/  answered  Hob- 
bie,  doubtfully.  *And  it's  for  certain  the  very  fairies 
—  I  mean  the  very  good  neighbours  themsells,  for  they 
say  folk  suldna  ca'  them  fairies  —  that  used  to  be  seen 
on  every  green  knowe  at  e  'en,  are  no  half  sae  often  visi- 
ble in  our  days.  I  canna  depone  to  having  ever  seen  ana 
mysell,  but  I  ance  heard  ane  whistle  ahint  me  in  the 
moss,  as  like  a  whaup  as  ae  thing  could  be  like  anither. 
And  mony  ane  my  father  saw  when  he  used  to  come 
hame  frae  the  fairs  at  e'en,  wi'  a  drap  drink  in  his 
head,  honest  man.' 

Earnscliff  was  somewhat  entertained  with  the  grad- 
ual declension  of  superstition  from  one  generation  to 
another  which  was  inferred  in  this  last  observation;  and 
they  continued  to  reason  on  such  subjects  until  they 
came  in  sight  of  the  upright  stone  which  gave  name  to 
the  moor. 

^  As  I  shall  answer,'  says  Hobbie,  ^yonder 's  the  creat- 
ure creeping  about  yet!  But  it 's  daylight,  and  you  have 
your  gun,  and  I  brought  out  my  bit  whinger;  I  think  we 
may  venture  on  him.' 

*By  all  manner  of  means,'  said  Earnscliff;  'but,  in  the 
name  of  wonder,  what  can  he  be  doing  there? ' 

'Bigging  a  dry-stane  dike,  I  think,  wi'  the  grey  geese, 
as  they  ca'  thae  great  loose  stanes.  Od,  that  passes 
a'  thing  I  e'er  heard  tell  of!' 

As  they  approached  nearer,  Earnscliff  could  not  help 
agreeing  with  his  companion.  The  figure  they  had  seen 
the  night  before  seemed  slowly  and  toilsomely  labouring 
to  pile  the  large  stones  one  upon  another,  as  if  to  form 
a  small  inclosure.  Materials  lay  around  him  in  great 
plenty,  but  the  labour  of  carrying  on  the  work  was  im- 

226 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


mense,  from  the  size  of  most  of  the  stones;  and  it  seemed 
astonishing  that  he  should  have  succeeded  in  moving 
several  which  he  had  already  arranged  for  the  founda- 
tion of  his  edifice.  He  was  struggling  to  move  a  frag- 
ment of  great  size  when  the  two  young  men  came  up,  and 
was  so  intent  upon  executing  his  purpose  that  he  did  not 
perceive  them  till  they  were  close  upon  him.  In  straining 
and  heaving  at  the  stone,  in  order  to  place  it  according 
to  his  wish,  he  displayed  a  degree  of  strength  which 
seemed  utterly  inconsistent  with  his  size  and  apparent 
deformity.  Indeed,  to  judge  from  the  difficulties  he  had 
already  surmounted,  he  must  have  been  of  Herculean 
powers;  for  some  of  the  stones  he  had  succeeded  in  rais- 
ing apparently  required  two  men's  strength  to  have 
moved  them.  Hobble's  suspicions  began  to  revive  on 
seeing  the  preternatural  strength  he  exerted. 

*  I  am  amaist  persuaded  it 's  the  ghaist  of  a  stane- 
mason;  see  siccan  band-stanes  as  he's  laid!  An  it  be  a 
man  after  a',  I  wonder  what  he  wad  take  by  the  rood  to 
build  a  march  dike.  There 's  ane  sair  wanted  between 
Cringlehope  and  the  Shaws.  Honest  man  (raising  his 
voice),  ye  make  good  firm  wark  there?' 

The  being  whom  he  addressed  raised  his  eyes  with  a 
ghastly  stare,  and,  getting  up  from  his  stooping  posture, 
stood  before  them  in  all  his  native  and  hideous  deform- 
ity. His  head  was  of  uncommon  size,  covered  with  a 
fell  of  shaggy  hair,  partly  grizzled  with  age;  his  eye- 
brows, shaggy  and  prominent,  overhung  a  pair  of  small, 
dark,  piercing  eyes,  set  far  back  in  their  sockets,  that 
rolled  with  a  portentous  wildness,  indicative  of  a  par- 
tial insanity.  The  rest  of  his  features  were  of  the  coarse, 
rough-hewn  stamp  with  which  a  painter  would  equip  a 

227 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


giant  in  romance;  to  which  was  added  the  wild,  irregu- 
lar, and  peculiar  expression,  so  often  seen  in  the  counte- 
nances of  those  whose  persons  are  deformed.  His  body, 
thick  and  square,  like  that  of  a  man  of  middle  size,  was 
mounted  upon  two  large  feet;  but  nature  seemed  to  have 
forgotten  the  legs  and  the  thighs,  or  they  were  so  very 
short  as  to  be  hidden  by  the  dress  which  he  wore.  His 
arms  were  long  and  brawny,  furnished  with  two  muscu- 
lar hands,  and,  where  uncovered  in  the  eagerness  of  his 
labour,  were  shagged  with  coarse  black  hair.  It  seemed 
as  if  nature  had  originally  intended  the  separate  parts  of 
his  body  to  be  the  members  of  a  giant,  but  had  afterwards 
capriciously  assigned  them  to  the  person  of  a  dwarf,  so 
ill  did  the  length  of  his  arms  and  the  iron  strength  of  his 
frame  correspond  with  the  shortness  of  his  stature.  His 
clothing  was  a  sort  of  coarse  brown  tunic,  like  a  monk's 
frock,  girt  round  him  with  a  belt  of  sealskin.  On  his  head 
he  had  a  cap  made  of  badger's  skin  or  some  other  rough 
fur,  which  added  considerably  to  the  grotesque  effect 
of  his  whole  appearance,  and  overshadowed  features 
whose  habitual  expression  seemed  that  of  sullen  ma- 
lignant misanthropy. 

This  remarkable  dwarf  gazed  on  the  two  youths  in 
silence,  with  a  dogged  and  irritated  look,  until  Earns- 
cliff ,  willing  to  soothe  him  into  better  temper,  observed, 
*  You  are  hard  tasked,  my  friend;  allow  us  to  assist  you.' 

Elliot  and  he  accordingly  placed  the  stone,  by  their 
joint  efforts,  upon  the  rising  wall.  The  Dwarf  watched 
them  with  the  eye  of  a  taskmaster,  and  testified  by  peev- 
ish gestures  his  impatience  at  the  time  which  they  took 
in  adjusting  the  stone.  He  pointed  to  another,  they 
raised  it  also;  to  a  third,  to  a  fourth.  They  continued  to 

228 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


humour  him,  though  with  some  trouble,  for  he  assigned 
them,  as  if  intentionally,  the  heaviest  fragments  which 
lay  near. 

*And  now,  friend,'  said  Elliot,  as  the  unreasonable 
Dwarf  indicated  another  stone  larger  than  any  they  had 
moved,  ^Earnscliff  may  do  as  he  likes;  but  be  ye  man  or 
be  ye  waur,  deil  be  in  my  fingers  if  I  break  my  back  wi' 
heaving  thae  stanes  ony  langer  like  a  barrow-man,  with- 
out getting  sae  muckle  as  thanks  for  my  pains. ' 

'Thanks!'  exclaimed  the  Dwarf,  with  a  motion  ex- 
pressive of  the  utmost  contempt.  ^  There,  take  them  and 
fatten  upon  them !  Take  them,  and  may  they  thrive  with 
you  as  they  have  done  with  me,  as  they  have  done  with 
every  mortal  worm  that  ever  heard  the  word  spoken  by 
his  fellow  reptile !  Hence ;  either  labour  or  begone ! ' 

'This  is  a  fine  reward  we  have,  Earnscliff,  for  building 
a  tabernacle  for  the  devil,  and  prejudicing  our  ain  souls 
into  the  bargain,  for  what  we  ken.' 

'Our  presence,'  answered  Earnscliff,  'seems  only  to  ir- 
ritate his  frenzy;  we  had  better  leave  him  and  send  some 
one  to  provide  him  with  food  and  necessaries.' 

They  did  so.  The  servant  despatched  for  this  purpose 
found  the  Dwarf  still  labouring  at  his  wall,  but  could  not 
extract  a  word  from  him.  The  lad,  infected  with  the 
superstitions  of  the  country,  did  not  long  persist  in  an 
attempt  to  intrude  questions  or  advice  on  so  singular 
a  figure,  but,  having  placed  the  articles,  which  he  had 
brought  for  his  use  on  a  stone  at  some  distance,  he  left 
them  at  the  misanthrope's  disposal. 

The  Dwarf  proceeded  in  his  labours  day  after  day 
with  an  assiduity  so  incredible  as  to  appear  almost  super- 
natural. In  one  day  he  often  seemed  to  have  done  the 

229 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


work  of  two  men,  and  his  building  soon  assumed  the  ap- 
pearance of  the  walls  of  a  hut,  which,  though  very  small, 
and  constructed  only  of  stones  and  turf,  without  any 
mortar,  exhibited,  from  the  unusual  size  of  the  stones 
employed,  an  appearance  of  solidity  very  uncommon  for 
a  cottage  of  such  narrow  dimensions  and  rude  construc- 
tion. Earnscliff,  attentive  to  his  motions,  no  sooner  per- 
ceived to  what  they  tended  than  he  sent  down  a  number 
of  spars  of  wood  suitable  for  forming  the  roof,  which  he 
caused  to  be  left  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  spot,  re- 
solving next  day  to  send  workmen  to  put  them  up.  But 
his  purpose  was  anticipated,  for  in  the  evening,  during 
the  night,  and  early  in  the  morning  the  Dwarf  had  la- 
boured so  hard,  and  with  such  ingenuity,  that  he  had 
nearly  completed  the  adjustment  of  the  rafters.  His 
next  labour  was  to  cut  rushes  and  thatch  his  dwelling,  a 
task  which  he  performed  with  singular  dexterity. 

As  he  seemed  averse  to  receive  any  aid  beyond  the  oc- 
casional assistance  of  a  passenger,  materials  suitable  to 
his  purpose  and  tools  were  supplied  to  him,  in  the  use  of 
which  he  proved  to  be  skilful.  He  constructed  the  door 
and  window  of  his  cot,  he  adjusted  a  rude  bedstead  and  a 
few  shelves,  and  appeared  to  becom^e  somewhat  soothed 
in  his  temper  as  his  accommodations  increased. 

His  next  task  was  to  form  a  strong  inclosure  and  to 
cultivate  the  land  within  it  to  the  best  of  his  power;  un- 
til, by  transporting  mould  and  working  up  what  was 
upon  the  spot,  he  formed  a  patch  of  garden-ground.  It 
must  be  naturally  supposed  that,  as  above  hinted,  this 
solitary  being  received  assistance  occasionally  from  such 
travellers  as  crossed  the  moor  by  chance,  as  well  as  from 
several  who  went  from  curiosity  to  visit  his  works.  It 

230 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


was,  indeed,  impossible  to  see  a  human  creature,  so  un- 
fitted, at  first  sight,  for  hard  labour,  toiling  with  such 
unremitting  assiduity,  without  stopping  a  few  minutes 
to  aid  him  in  his  task;  and,  as  no  one  of  his  occasional 
assistants  was  acquainted  with  the  degree  of  help  which 
the  Dwarf  had  received  from  others,  the  celerity  of  his 
progress  lost  none  of  its  marvels  in  their  eyes.  The 
strong  and  compact  appearance  of  the  cottage,  formed 
in  so  very  short  a  space,  and  by  such  a  being,  and  the 
superior  skill  which  he  displayed  in  mechanics  and  in 
other  arts,  gave  suspicion  to  the  surrounding  neighbours. 
They  insisted  that,  if  he  was  not  a  phantom  —  an  opinion 
which  was  now  abandoned,  since  he  plainly  appeared  a 
being  of  blood  and  bone  with  themselves  —  yet  he  must 
be  in  close  league  with  the  invisible  world,  and  have 
chosen  that  sequestered  spot  to  carry  on  his  communi- 
cation with  them  undisturbed.  They  insisted,  though 
in  a  different  sense  from  the  philosopher's  appKcation 
of  the  phrase,  that  he  was  never  less  alone  than  when 
alone;  and  that  from  the  heights  which  commanded  the 
moor  at  a  distance  passengers  often  discovered  a  per- 
son at  work  along  with  this  dweller  of  the  desert,  who 
regularly  disappeared  as  soon  as  they  approached  closer 
to  the  cottage.  Such  a  figure  was  also  occasionally  seen 
sitting  beside  him  at  the  door,  walking  with  him  in  the 
moor,  or  assisting  him  in  fetching  water  from  his  foun- 
tain. Earnscliff  explained  this  phenomenon  by  suppos- 
ing it  to  be  the  Dwarf's  shadow. 

^Deil  a  shadow  has  he,'  replied  Hobbie  Elliot,  who 
was  a  strenuous  defender  of  the  general  opinion;  ^he's 
ower  far  in  wi'  the  Auld  Ane  to  have  a  shadow.  Besides,^ 
he  argued  more  logically,  'wha  ever  heard  of  a  shadow 

231 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


that  cam  between  a  body  and  the  sun  ?  and  this  thing, 
be  it  what  it  will,  is  thinner  and  taller  than  the  body  him- 
sell,  and  has  been  seen  to  come  between  him  and  the  sun 
mair  than  anes  or  twice  either/ 

These  suspicions,  which,  in  any  other  part  of  the 
country,  might  have  been  attended  with  investigations 
a  little  inconvenient  to  the  supposed  wizard,  were  here 
only  productive  of  respect  and  awe.  The  recluse  being 
seemed  somewhat  gratified  by  the  marks  of  timid  vener- 
ation with  which  an  occasional  passenger  approached 
his  dweUing,  the  look  of  startled  surprise  with  which  he 
surveyed  his  person  and  his  premises,  and  the  hurried 
step  with  which  he  pressed  his  retreat  as  he  passed  the 
awful  spot.  The  boldest  only  stopped  to  gratify  their 
curiosity  by  a  hasty  glance  at  the  walls  of  his  cottage 
and  garden,  and  to  apologise  for  it  by  a  courteous  salu- 
tation, which  the  inmate  sometimes  deigned  to  return 
by  a  word  or  a  nod.  EarnscKff  often  passed  that  way, 
and  seldom  without  inquiring  after  the  soUtary  inmate, 
who  seemed  now  to  have  arranged  his  establishment  for 
Ufe. 

It  was  impossible  to  engage  him  in  any  conversation 
on  his  own  personal  affairs;  nor  was  he  communicative 
or  accessible  in  talking  on  any  other  subject  whatever, 
although  he  seemed  to  have  considerably  relented  in 
the  extreme  ferocity  of  his  misanthropy,  or  rather  to  be 
less  frequently  visited  with  the  fits  of  derangement  of 
which  this  was  a  symptom.  No  argument  could  pre- 
vail upon  him  to  accept  anything  beyond  the  simplest 
necessaries,  although  much  more  was  offered  by  Earns- 
cliff  out  of  charity,  and  by  his  more  superstitious  neigh- 
bours from  other  motives.  The  benefits  of  these  last  he 

232 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


repaid  by  advice,  when  consulted,  as  at  length  he  slowly 
was,  on  their  diseases  or  those  of  their  cattle.  He  often 
furnished  them  with  medicines  also,  and  seemed  pos- 
sessed, not  only  of  such  as  were  the  produce  of  the  coun- 
try, but  of  foreign  drugs.  He  gave  these  persons  to  under- 
stand that  his  name  was  Elshender  the  Recluse;  but  his 
popular  epithet  soon  came  to  be  Canny  Elshie,  or  the 
Wise  Wight  of  Mucklestane  Moor.  Some  extended  their 
queries  beyond  their  bodily  complaints,  and  requested 
advice  upon  other  matters,  which  he  delivered  with  aH 
oracular  shrewdness  that  greatly  confirmed  the  opinion 
of  his  possessing  preternatural  skill.  The  querists  usu- 
ally left  some  offering  upon  a  stone,  at  a  distance  from 
his  dwelling;  if  it  was  money,  or  any  article  which  it  did 
not  suit  him  to  accept,  he  either  threw  it  away  or  suf- 
fered it  to  remain  where  it  was  without  making  use  of  it. 
On  all  occasions  his  manners  were  rude  and  unsocial,  and 
his  words  in  number  just  suflScient  to  express  his  mean- 
ing as  briefly  as  possible,  and  he  shunned  all  commun- 
ication that  went  a  syllable  beyond  the  matter  in  hand. 
When  winter  had  passed  away  and  his  garden  began  to 
afford  him  herbs  and  vegetables,  he  confined  himself  al- 
most entirely  to  those  articles  of  food.  He  accepted,  not- 
withstanding, a  pair  of  she-goats  from  Earnscliff,  which 
fed  on  the  moor  and  supplied  him  with  milk. 

When  Earnscliff  found  his  gift  had  been  received,  he 
soon  afterwards  paid  the  hermit  a  visit.  The  old  man 
was  seated  on  a  broad  flat  stone  near  his  garden  door, 
which  was  the  seat  of  science  he  usually  occupied  when 
disposed  to  receive  his  patients  or  clients.  The  inside  of 
his  hut  and  that  of  his  garden  he  kept  as  sacred  from 
human  intrusion  as  the  natives  of  Otaheite  do  their 


233 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


Moral ;  apparently  he  would  have  deemed  it  polluted 
by  the  step  of  any  human  being.  When  he  shut  himself 
up  in  his  habitation  no  entreaty  could  prevail  upon 
him  to  make  himself  visible,  or  to  give  audience  to 
any  one  whomsoever. 

EarnscUiS  had  been  fishing  in  a  small  river  at  some  dis- 
tance. He  had  his  rod  in  his  hand,  and  his  basket,  filled 
with  trout,  at  his  shoulder.  He  sate  down  upon  a  stone 
nearly  opposite  to  the  Dwarf,  who,  familiarised  with  his 
presence,  took  no  farther  notice  of  him  than  by  elevat- 
ing his  huge  misshapen  head  for  the  purpose  of  staring  at 
him,  and  then  again  sinking  it  upon  his  bosom,  as  if  in 
profound  meditation.  Earnscliff  looked  around  him,  and 
observed  that  the  hermit  had  increased  his  accommoda- 
tions by  the  construction  of  a  shed  for  the  reception  of 
his  goats. 

*  You  labour  hard,  Elshie,'  he  said,  willing  to  lead  this 
singular  being  into  conversation. 

*  Labour,'  reechoed  the  Dwarf,  'is  the  mildest  evil  of 
a  lot  so  miserable  as  that  of  mankind;  better  to  labour 
like  me  than  sport  like  you.' 

*I  cannot  defend  the  humanity  of  our  ordinary  rural 
sports,  Elshie,  and  yet  — ' 

'And  yet,'  interrupted  the  Dwarf,  'they  are  better 
than  your  ordinary  business:  better  to  exercise  idle  and 
wanton  cruelty  on  mute  fishes  than  on  your  fellow- 
creatures.  Yet  why  should  I  say  so  ?  Why  should  not 
the  whole  human  herd  butt,  gore,  and  gorge  upon  each 
other  till  all  are  extirpated  but  one  huge  and  over-fed 
Behemoth,  and  he,  when  he  had  throttled  and  gnawed 
the  bones  of  all  his  fellows  —  he,  when  his  prey  failed 
him,  to  be  roaring  whole  days  for  lack  of  food,  and,  fin- 

234 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


ally,  to  die  inch  by  inch  of  famine;  it  were  a  consumma- 
tion worthy  of  the  race!' 

^  Your  deeds  are  better,  Elshie,  than  your  words/  an- 
swered Eamscliff:  ^  you  labour  to  preserve  the  race 
whom  your  misanthropy  slanders.' 

'I  do;  but  why?  Hearken.  You  are  one  on  whom  I 
look  with  the  least  loathing,  and  I  care  not  if,  contrary 
to  my  wont,  I  waste  a  few  words  in  compassion  to  your 
infatuated  blindness.  If  I  cannot  send  disease  into  fam- 
iHes  and  murrain  among  the  herds,  can  I  attain  the 
same  end  so  well  as  by  prolonging  the  lives  of  those  who 
can  serve  the  purpose  of  destruction  as  effectually?  If 
AHce  of  Bower  had  died  in  winter,  would  young  Ruth- 
win  have  been  slain  for  her  love  the  last  spring?  Who 
thought  of  penning  their  cattle  beneath  the  tower  when 
the  Red  Reiver  of  Westburnflat  was  deemed  to  be  on 
his  deathbed?  My  draughts,  my  skill,  recovered  him. 
And,  now,  who  dare  leave  his  herd  upon  the  lea  without 
a  watch,  or  go  to  bed  without  unchaining  the  sleuth- 
hound?' 

*I  own,'  answered  Earnscliff,  ^you  did  Uttle  good  to 
society  by  the  last  of  these  cures.  But,  to  balance  the 
evil,  there  is  my  friend  Hobbie  —  honest  Hobbie  of  the 
Heughfoot;  your  skill  relieved  him  last  winter  in  a  fever 
that  might  have  lost  him  his  Ufe.' 

^Thus  think  the  children  of  clay  in  their  ignorance,' 
said  the  Dwarf,  smiling  maliciously,  'and  thus  they 
speak  in  their  folly.  Have  you  marked  the  young  cub 
of  a  wild  cat  that  has  been  domesticated,  how  sportive, 
how  playful,  how  gentle!  But  trust  him  with  your 
game,  your  lambs,  your  poultry,  his  inbred  ferocity 
breaks  forth;  he  gripes,  tears,  ravages,  and  devours.' 

235 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

^Such  is  the  animars  instinct/  answered  Earnscliff; 
*but  what  has  that  to  do  with  Hobbie?' 

'It  is  his  emblem,  it  is  his  picture/  retorted  the  Re- 
cluse. 'He  is  at  present  tame,  quiet,  and  domesticated, 
for  lack  of  opportunity  to  exercise  his  inborn  propensi- 
ties; but  let  the  trumpet  of  war  sound,  let  the  young 
bloodhound  snuff  blood,  he  will  be  as  ferocious  as  the 
wildest  of  his  Border  ancestors  that  ever  fired  a  helpless 
peasant's  abode.  Can  you  deny  that  even  at  present  he 
often  urges  you  to  take  bloody  revenge  for  an  injury  re- 
ceived when  you  were  a  boy? '  Earnscliff  started.  The 
Recluse  appeared  not  to  observe  his  surprise,  and  pro- 
ceeded, '  The  trumpet  will  blow,  the  young  blood- 
hound will  lap  blood,  and  I  will  laugh  and  say,  "For  this 
I  have  preserved  thee!"'  He  paused,  and  continued  — 
*Such  are  my  cures,  their  object,  their  purpose,  perpet- 
uating the  mass  of  misery,  and  playing  even  in  this 
desert  my  part  in  the  general  tragedy.  Were  you  on 
your  sickbed  I  might,  in  compassion,  send  you  a  cup 
of  poison.' 

'I  am  much  obliged  to  you,  Elshie,  and  certainly 
shall  not  fail  to  consult  you,  with  so  comfortable  a  hope 
from  your  assistance.' 

'Do  not  flatter  yourself  too  far,'  replied  the  Hermit, 
'with  the  hope  that  I  will  positively  yield  to  the  frailty 
of  pity.  Why  should  I  snatch  a  dupe  so  well  fitted  to  en- 
dure the  miseries  of  life  as  you  are  from  the  wretched- 
ness which  his  own  visions  and  the  villainy  of  the  world 
are  preparing  for  him?  Why  should  I  play  the  compas- 
sionate Indian,  and,  knocking  out  the  brains  of  the  cap- 
tive with  my  tomahawk,  at  once  spoil  the  three  days' 
amusement  of  my  kindred  tribe,  at  the  very  moment 

236 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


when  the  brands  were  lighted,  the  pincers  heated,  the 
cauldrons  boiling,  the  knives  sharpened,  to  tear,  scorch, 
seethe,  and  scarify  the  intended  victim?' 

*A  dreadful  picture  you  present  to  me  of  life,  Elshie; 
but  I  am  not  daunted  by  it,'  returned  Earnscliff.  'We 
are  sent  here,  in  one  sense,  to  bear  and  to  suffer;  but  in 
another,  to  do  and  to  enjoy.  The  active  day  has  its 
evening  of  repose;  even  patient  sufferance  has  its  alle- 
viations, where  there  is  a  consolatory  sense  of  duty 
discharged.' 

'I  spurn  at  the  slavish  and  bestial  doctrine,'  said  the 
Dwarf ,  his  eyes  kindling  with  insane  fury.  'I  spurn  at 
it  as  worthy  only  of  the  beasts  that  perish;  but  I  will 
waste  no  more  words  with  you.' 

He  rose  hastily;  but,  ere  he  withdrew  into  the  hut,  he 
added  with  great  vehemence,  *  Yet,  lest  you  still  think 
my  apparent  benefits  to  mankind  flow  from  the  stupid 
and  servile  source  called  love  of  our  fellow-creatures, 
know  that,  were  there  a  man  who  had  annihilated  my 
soul's  dearest  hope,  who  had  torn  my  heart  to  mam- 
mocks, and  seared  my  brain  till  it  glowed  Hke  a  volcano, 
and  were  that  man's  fortune  and  life  in  my  power  as 
completely  as  this  frail  potsherd  (he  snatched  up  an 
earthen  cup  which  stood  beside  him),  I  would  not  dash 
him  into  atoms  thus  (he  flung  the  vessel  with  fury 
against  the  wall).  No!  (he  spoke  more  composedly,  but 
with  the  utmost  bitterness),  I  would  pamper  him  with 
wealth  and  power  to  inflame  his  evil  passions  and  to 
fulfil  his  evil  designs;  he  should  lack  no  means  of  vice 
and  villainy;  he  should  be  the  centre  of  a  whirlpool  that 
itself  should  know  neither  rest  nor  peace,  but  boil  with 
unceasing  fury,  while  it  wrecked  every  goodly  ship  that 

237 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


approached  its  limits;  he  should  be  an  earthquake  cap- 
able of  shaking  the  very  land  in  which  he  dwelt,  and 
rendering  all  its  inhabitants  friendless,  outcast,  and 
miserable  —  as  I  am!' 

The  wretched  being  rushed  into  his  hut  as  he  uttered 
these  last  words,  shutting  the  door  with  furious  violence, 
and  rapidly  drawing  two  bolts,  one  after  another,  as  if  to 
exclude  the  intrusion  of  any  one  of  that  hated  race  who 
had  thus  lashed  his  soul  to  frenzy.  EarnscHff  left  the 
moor  with  mingled  sensations  of  pity  and  horror,  pon- 
dering what  strange  and  melancholy  cause  could  have 
reduced  to  so  miserable  a  state  of  mind  a  man  whose  lan- 
guage argued  him  to  be  of  rank  and  education  much  su- 
perior to  the  vulgar.  He  was  also  surprised  to  see  how 
much  particular  information  a  person  who  had  lived  in 
that  country  so  short  a  time,  and  in  so  recluse  a  manner, 
had  been  able  to  collect  respecting  the  dispositions  and 
private  affairs  of  the  inhabitants. 

'It  is  no  wonder,'  he  said  to  himself,  Hhat,  with  such 
extent  of  information,  such  a  mode  of  life,  so  uncouth  a 
figure,  and  sentiments  so  virulently  misanthropic,  this 
unfortunate  should  be  regarded  by  the  vulgar  as  in 
league  with  the  Enemy  of  Mankind.' 


CHAPTER  V 


The  bleakest  rock  upon  the  loneliest  heath 

Feels,  in  its  barrenness,  some  touch  of  spring; 

And,  in  the  April  dew,  or  beam  of  May, 

Its  moss  and  lichen  freshen  and  revive; 

And  thus  the  heart,  most  sear'd  to  human  pleasure, 

Melts  at  the  tear,  joys  in  the  smile,  of  woman. 

Beaumont. 

As  the  season  advanced  the  weather  became  more  genial, 
and  the  Recluse  was  more  frequently  found  occupying 
the  broad  flat  stone  in  the  front  of  his  mansion.  As  he 
sate  there  one  day,  about  the  hour  of  noon,  a  party  of 
gentlemen  and  ladies,  well  mounted  and  numerously 
attended,  swept  across  the  heath  at  some  distance  from 
his  dwelling.  Dogs,  hawks,  and  led-horses  swelled  the 
retinue,  and  the  air  resounded  at  intervals  with  the 
cheer  of  the  hunters  and  the  sound  of  horns  blown  by 
the  attendants.  The  Recluse  was  about  to  retire  into 
his  mansion  at  the  sight  of  a  train  so  joyous,  when  three 
young  ladies,  with  their  attendants,  who  had  made 
a  circuit  and  detached  themselves  from  their  party 
in  order  to  gratify  their  curiosity  by  a  sight  of  the 
Wise  Wight  of  Mucklestane  Moor,  came  suddenly 
up  ere  he  could  effect  his  purpose.  The  first  shrieked 
and  put  her  hands  before  her  eyes  at  sight  of  an 
object  so  unusually  deformed.  The  second,  with  a 
hysterical  giggle,  which  she  intended  should  disguise 
her  terrors,  asked  the  Recluse  whether  he  could  tell 
their  fortune.  The  third,  who  was  best  mounted,  best 
dressed,  and  incomparably  the  best-looking  of  the 

239 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


three,  advanced,  as  if  to  cover  the  incivility  of  her 
companions. 

*  We  have  lost  the  right  path  that  leads  through  these 
morasses,  and  our  party  have  gone  forward  without  us/ 
said  the  young  lady.  ^  Seeing  you,  father,  at  the  door  of 
your  house,  we  have  turned  this  way  to  — ' 

'Hush!'  interrupted  the  Dwarf;  *so  young  and  al- 
ready so  artful!  You  came  —  you  kuow  you  came,  to 
exult  in  the  consciousness  of  your  own  youth,  wealth, 
and  beauty,  by  contrasting  them  with  age,  poverty,  and 
deformity.  It  is  a  fit  employment  for  the  daughter 
of  your  father;  but  oh,  how  unlike  the  child  of  your 
mother!' 

'Did  you,  then,  know  my  parents,  and  do  you  know 
me?' 

'Yes;  this  is  the  first  time  you  have  crossed  my 
waking  eyes,  but  I  have  seen  you  in  my  dreams.' 
'Your  dreams?' 

'Ay,  Isabel  Vere.  What  hast  thou  or  thine  to  do  with 
my  waking  thoughts? ' 

'Your  waking  thoughts,  sir,'  said  the  second  of  Miss 
Vere's  companions,  with  a  sort  of  mock  gravity,  'are 
fixed  doubtless,  upon  wisdom;  folly  can  only  intrude  on 
your  sleeping  moments.' 

'Over  thine,'  retorted  the  Dwarf,  more  splenetically 
than  became  a  philosopher  or  hermit, '  folly  exercises  an 
unlimited  empire,  asleep  or  awake.' 

'Lord  bless  us! '  said  the  lady,  *  he's  a  prophet,  sure 
enough.' 

'As  surely,'  continued  the  Recluse,  'as  thou  art  a  wo- 
man. A  woman!  I  should  have  said  a  lady  —  a  fine 
lady.  You  asked  me  to  tell  your  fortune:  it  is  a  simple 

240 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


one  —  an  endless  chase  through  life  after  follies  not 
worth  catching,  and,  when  caught,  successively  thrown 
away  —  a  chase  pursued  from  the  days  of  tottering  in- 
fancy to  those  of  old  age  upon  his  crutches.  Toys  and 
merry-makings  in  childhood,  love  and  its  absurdities  in 
youth,  spadille  and  basto  in  age,  shall  succeed  each  other 
as  objects  of  pursuit  —  flowers  and  butterflies  in  spring, 
butterflies  and  thistle-down  in  summer,  withered  leaves 
in  autumn  and  winter  —  all  pursued,  all  caught,  all 
flung  aside.  Stand  apart;  your  fortune  is  said.' 

^AU  caught,  however,'  retorted  the  laughing  fair  one, 
who  was  a  cousin  of  Miss  Vere's;  that's  something, 
Nancy,'  she  continued,  turning  to  the  timid  damsel  who 
had  first  approached  the  Dwarf.  ^Will  you  ask  your 
fortune?' 

'  Not  for  worlds,'  said  she,  drawing  back ; '  I  have  heard 
enough  of  yours.' 

^Well,  then,'  said  Miss  Ilderton,  offering  money  to 
the  Dwarf,  ^I'll  pay  for  mine,  as  if  it  were  spoken  by  an 
oracle  to  a  princess.' 

^  Truth,'  said  the  Soothsayer,  ^can  neither  be  bought 
nor  sold ' ;  and  he  pushed  back  her  proffered  offering  with 
morose  disdain. 

'Well,  then,'  said  the  lady,  'I'll  keep  my  money, 
Mr.  Elshender,  to  assist  me  in  the  chase  I  am  to 
pursue.' 

'You  will  need  it,'  replied  the  cynic;  'without  it,  few 
pursue  successfully,  and  fewer  are  themselves  pursued. 
Stop ! '  he  said  to  Miss  Vere,  as  her  companions  moved 
off,  'with  you  I  have  more  to  say.  You  have  what  your 
companions  would  wish  to  have,  or  be  thought  to  have 
—  beauty,  wealth,  station,  accomplishments.' 

6  241 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


*  Forgive  my  following  my  companions,  father;  I  am 
proof  both  to  flattery  and  fortune- telling.' 

'Stay/  continued  the  Dwarf,  with  his  hand  on  her 
horse's  rein,  'I  am  no  common  soothsayer  and  I  am  no 
flatterer.  All  the  advantages  I  have  detailed,  all  and 
each  of  them  have  their  corresponding  evils  —  unsuc- 
cessful love,  crossed  affections,  the  gloom  of  a  convent, 
or  an  odious  alliance.  I,  who  wish  ill  to  all  mankind, 
cannot  wish  more  evil  to  you,  so  much  is  your  course  of 
life  crossed  by  it.' 

'  And  if  it  be,  father,  let  me  enjoy  the  readiest  solace 
of  adversity  while  prosperity  is  in  my  power.  You  are 
old;  you  are  poor,  your  habitation  is  far  from  human 
aid,  were  you  ill  or  in  want;  your  situation  in  many 
respects  exposes  you  to  the  suspicions  of  the  vulgar, 
which  are  too  apt  to  break  out  into  actions  of  bru- 
tality. Let  me  think  I  have  mended  the  lot  of  one 
human  being!  Accept  of  such  assistance  as  I  have 
power  to  offer;  do  this  for  my  sake,  if  not  for  your  own, 
that,  when  these  evils  arise  which  you  prophesy  perhaps 
too  truly,  I  may  not  have  to  reflect  that  the  hours  of 
my  happier  time  have  been  passed  altogether  in  vain.' 

The  old  man  answered  with  a  broken  voice,  and  al- 
most without  addressing  himself  to  the  young  lady: 
'Yes,  'tis  thus  thou  shouldst  think,  'tis  thus  thou 
shouldst  speak,  if  ever  human  speech  and  thought  kept 
touch  with  each  other!  They  do  not  —  they  do  not. 
Alas!  they  cannot.  And  yet  —  wait  here  an  instant,  stir 
not  till  my  return.'  He  went  to  his  little  garden,  and  re- 
turned with  a  half-blown  rose.  '  Thou  hast  made  me  shed 
a  tear,  the  first  which  has  wet  my  eyelids  for  many  a 
year;  for  that  good  deed  receive  this  token  of  gratitude. 

242 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


It  is  but  a  common  rose;  preserve  it,  however,  and  do 
not  part  with  it.  Come  to  me  in  your  hour  of  adversity. 
Show  me  that  rose,  or  but  one  leaf  of  it,  were  it  withered 
as  my  heart  is;  if  it  should  be  in  my  jfiercest  and  wild- 
est movements  of  rage  against  a  hateful  world,  still  it 
will  recall  gentler  thoughts  to  my  bosom,  and  perhaps 
afford  happier  prospects  to  thine.  But  no  message,'  he 
exclaimed,  rising  into  his  usual  mood  of  misanthropy  — 
^no  message  — no  go-between!  Come  thyself;  and  the 
heart  and  the  doors  that  are  shut  against  every  other 
earthly  being  shall  open  to  thee  and  to  thy  sorrows. 
And  now  pass  on.' 

He  let  go  the  bridle-rein,  and  the  young  lady  rode  on, 
after  expressing  her  thanks  to  this  singular  being  as  well 
as  her  surprise  at  the  extraordinary  nature  of  his  ad- 
dress would  permit,  often  turning  back  to  look  at  the 
Dwarf,  who  still  remained  at  the  door  of  his  habitation, 
and  watched  her  progress  over  the  moor  towards  her 
father's  castle  of  EUieslaw,  until  the  brow  of  the  hill  hid 
the  party  from  his  sight. 

The  ladies,  meantime,  jested  with  Miss  Vere  on  the 
strange  interview  they  had  just  had  with  the  far-famed 
Wizard  of  the  Moor.  *  Isabella  has  all  the  luck  at  home 
and  abroad!  Her  hawk  strikes  down  the  blackcock;  her 
eyes  wound  the  gallant;  no  chance  for  her  poor  compan- 
ions and  kinswomen;  even  the  conjuror  cannot  escape 
the  force  of  her  charms.  You  should,  in  compassion, 
cease  to  be  such  an  engrosser,  my  dear  Isabel,  or  at 
least  set  up  shop  and  sell  off  all  the  goods  you  do  not 
mean  to  keep  for  your  own  use.' 

'You  shall  have  them  all,'  replied  Miss  Vere,  'and  the 
conjuror  to  boot,  at  a  very  easy  rate.' 

243 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


^No!  Nancy  shall  have  the  conjuror/  said  Miss  Ilder- 
ton,  *to  supply  deficiencies  ;  she's  not  quite  a  witch 
herself,  you  know.' 

^Lord,  sister/  answered  the  younger  Miss  Ilderton, 
'what  could  I  do  with  so  frightful  a  monster?  I  kept 
my  eyes  shut  after  once  glancing  at  him ;  and  I  protest 
I  thought  I  saw  him  still,  though  I  winked  as  close  as 
ever  I  could.' 

^That's  a  pity,'  said  her  sister;  ^ever  while  you  live, 
Nancy,  choose  an  admirer  whose  faults  can  be  hid  by 
winking  at  them.  Well,  then,  I  must  take  him  myself, 
I  suppose,  and  put  him  in  mamma's  Japan  cabinet,  in 
order  to  show  that  Scotland  can  produce  a  specimen 
of  mortal  clay  moulded  into  a  form  ten  thousand  times 
uglier  than  the  imaginations  of  Canton  and  Pekin, 
fertile  as  they  are  in  monsters,  have  immortahsed  in 
porcelain.' 

*  There  is  something,'  said  Miss  Vere,  'so  melancholy 
in  the  situation  of  this  poor  man  that  I  cannot  enter  into 
your  mirth,  Lucy,  so  readily  as  usual.  If  he  has  no  re- 
sources, how  is  he  to  exist  in  this  waste  country,  living, 
as  he  does,  at  such  a  distance  from  mankind?  and  if  he 
has  the  means  of  securing  occasional  assistance,  will  not 
the  very  suspicion  that  he  is  possessed  of  them  expose 
him  to  plunder  and  assassination  by  some  of  our  un- 
settled neighbours?' 

^But  you  forget  that  they  say  he  is  a  warlock,'  said 
Nancy  Ilderton. 

*  And,  if  his  magic  diabolical  should  fail  him,'  rejoined 
her  sister,  *I  would  have  him  trust  to  his  magic  natural, 
and  thrust  his  enormous  head  and  most  preternatural 
visage  out  at  his  door  or  window,  full  in  view  of  the 

244 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


assailants.  The  boldest  robber  that  ever  rode  would 
hardly  bide  a  second  glance  of  him.  Well,  I  wish  I  had 
the  use  of  that  Gorgon  head  of  his  for  only  one  half- 
hour.' 

^For  what  purpose,  Lucy?'  said  Miss  Vere. 

^0!  I  would  frighten  out  of  the  castle  that  dark,  stiff, 
and  stately  Sir  Frederick  Langley,  that  is  so  great  a 
favourite  with  your  father,  and  so  httle  a  favourite  of 
yours.  I  protest  I  shall  be  obliged  to  the  Wizard  as  long 
as  I  live,  if  it  were  only  for  the  half-hour's  relief  from 
that  man's  company  which  we  have  gained  by  deviating 
from  the  party  to  visit  Elshie.' 

*  What  would  you  say,  then,'  said  Miss  Vere,  in  a  low 
tone,  so  as  not  to  be  heard  by  the  younger  sister,  who 
rode  before  them,  the  narrow  path  not  admitting  of  their 
moving  all  three  abreast  —  'what  would  you  say,  my 
dearest  Lucy,  if  it  were  proposed  to  you  to  endure  his 
company  for  life?' 

'Say?  I  would  say,  "No,  no,  no,"  three  times,  each 
louder  than  another,  till  they  should  hear  me  at  Carlisle.* 

'And  Sir  Frederick  would  say  then,  "Nineteen  nay- 
says  are  half  a  grant."' 

'That,'  repUed  Miss  Lucy,  'depends  entirely  on  the 
manner  in  which  the  nay-says  are  said.  Mine  should 
have  not  one  grain  of  concession  in  them,  I  promise  you.' 

'But  if  your  father,'  said  Miss  Vere,  'were  to  say, 
"Thus  do,  or—"' 

'I  would  stand  to  the  consequences  of  his  "or,"  were 
he  the  most  cruel  father  that  ever  was  recorded  in  ro- 
mance, to  fill  up  the  alternative.' 

'And  what  if  he  threatened  you  with  a  Catholic  aunt, 
an  abbess,  and  a  cloister?' 

245 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


^Then/  said  Miss  Ilderton,  'I  would  threaten  him 
with  a  Protestant  son-in-law,  and  be  glad  of  an  oppor- 
tunity to  disobey  him  for  conscience  sake.  And  now  that 
Nancy  is  out  of  hearing,  let  me  really  say,  I  think  you 
would  be  excusable  before  God  and  man  for  resisting 
this  preposterous  match  by  every  means  in  your  power. 
A  proud,  dark,  ambitious  man,  a  caballer  against  the 
state,  infamous  for  his  avarice  and  severity,  a  bad  son, 
a  bad  brother,  unkind  and  ungenerous  to  all  his  relatives. 
Isabel,  I  would  die  rather  than  have  him.' 

*  Don't  let  my  father  hear  you  give  me  such  advice/ 
said  Miss  Vere,  ^or  adieu,  my  dear  Lucy,  to  Ellieslaw 
Castle.' 

^And  adieu  to  Ellieslaw  Castle,  with  all  my  heart,' 
said  her  friend,  ^if  I  once  saw  you  fairly  out  of  it,  and 
settled  under  some  kinder  protector  than  he  whom  na- 
ture has  given  you.  O,  if  my  poor  father  had  been  in  his 
former  health,  how  gladly  would  he  have  received  and 
sheltered  you  till  this  ridiculous  and  cruel  persecution 
were  blown  over!' 

^ Would  to  God  it  had  been  so,  my  dear  Lucy!'  an- 
swered Isabella;  ^but  I  fear  that,  in  your  father's  weak 
state  of  health,  he  would  be  altogether  unable  to  protect 
me  against  the  means  which  would  be  immediately  used 
for  reclaiming  the  poor  fugitive.' 

*I  fear  so  indeed,'  replied  Miss  Ilderton;  'but  we  will 
consider  and  devise  something.  Now  that  your  father 
and  his  guests  seem  so  deeply  engaged  in  some  mysteri- 
ous plot,  to  judge  from  the  passing  and  returning  of  mes- 
sages, from  the  strange  faces  which  appear  and  disap- 
pear without  being  announced  by  their  names,  from  the 
collecting  and  cleaning  of  arms,  and  the  anxious  gloom 

246 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


and  bustle  which  seem  to  agitate  every  male  in  the 
castle,  it  may  not  be  impossible  for  us  —  always  in  case 
matters  be  driven  to  extremity  —  to  shape  out  some  lit- 
tle supplemental  conspiracy  of  our  own.  I  hope  the  gen- 
tlemen have  not  kept  all  the  policy  to  themselves;  and 
there  is  one  associate  that  I  would  gladly  admit  to  our 
counsel.' 

'Not  Nancy?' 

*0  no!'  said  Miss  Ilderton.  'Nancy,  though  an  excel- 
lent good  girl,  and  fondly  attached  to  you,  would  make 
a  dull  conspirator —  as  dull  as  Renault  and  all  the  other 
subordinate  plotters  in  Venice  Preserved."  No;  this  is 
a  Jaffeir,  or  Pierre,  if  you  like  the  character  better;  and 
yet,  though  I  know  I  shall  please  you,  I  am  afraid  to 
mention  his  name  to  you,  lest  I  vex  you  at  the  same 
time.  Can  you  not  guess?  Something  about  an  eagle 
and  a  rock;  it  does  not  begin  with  eagle  in  English,  but 
something  very  like  it  in  Scotch.' 

'You  cannot  mean  young  Earnscliff,  Lucy?'  said  Miss 
Vere,  blushing  deeply. 

'And  whom  else  should  I  mean?'  said  Lucy.  'Jaf- 
feirs  and  Pierres  are  very  scarce  in  this  country,  I 
take  it,  though  one  could  find  Renaults  and  Bedamars 
enow.' 

^How  can  you  talk  so  wildly,  Lucy?  Your  plays  and 
romances  have  positively  turned  your  brain.  You  know 
that,  independent  of  my  father's  consent,  without  which 
I  never  will  marry  any  one,  and  which,  in  the  case  you 
point  at,  would  never  be  granted;  independent,  too, 
of  our  knowing  nothing  of  young  Earnscliff's  inclina- 
tions, but  by  your  own  wild  conjectures  and  fancies  — 
besides  all  this,  there  is  the  fatal  brawl!' 


247 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


^When  his  father  was  killed?'  said  Lucy.  ^But  that 
was  very  long  ago;  and  I  hope  we  have  outlived  the  time 
of  bloody  feud,  when  a  quarrel  was  carried  down  be- 
tween two  families  from  father  to  son,  like  a  Spanish 
game  at  chess,  and  a  murder  or  two,  committed  in 
every  generation,  just  to  keep  the  matter  from  going 
to  sleep.  We  do  with  our  quarrels  nowadays  as  with 
our  clothes  —  cut  them  out  for  ourselves,  and  wear 
them  out  in  our  own  day,  and  should  no  more  think 
of  resenting  our  father's  feuds  than  of  wearing  their 
slashed  doublets  and  trunk-hose.' 

'You  treat  this  far  too  lightly,  Lucy,'  answered  Miss 
Vere. 

'Not  a  bit,  my  dear  Isabella,'  said  Lucy.  'Consider, 
your  father,  though  present  in  the  unhappy  affray,  is 
never  supposed  to  have  struck  the  fatal  blow;  besides,  in 
former  times,  in  case  of  mutual  slaughter  between  clans, 
subsequent  alliances  were  so  far  from  being  excluded, 
that  the  hand  of  a  daughter  or  a  sister  was  the  most  fre- 
quent gage  of  reconciliation.  You  laugh  at  my  skill  in 
romance;  but,  I  assure  you,  should  your  history  be  writ- 
ten, like  that  of  many  a  less  distressed  and  less  deserving 
heroine,  the  well- judging  reader  would  set  you  down 
for  the  lady  and  the  love  of  Earnscliff  from  the  very 
obstacle  which  you  suppose  so  insurmountable.' 

'But  these  are  not  the  days  of  romance  but  of  sad 
reality,  for  there  stands  the  castle  of  Ellieslaw.' 

'And  there  stands  Sir  Frederick  Langley  at  the 
gate,  waiting  to  assist  the  ladies  from  their  palfreys. 
I  would  as  lief  touch  a  toad;  I  will  disappoint  him  and 
take  old  Horsington  the  groom  for  my  master  of  the 
horse.' 

248 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


So  saying,  the  lively  young  lady  switched  her  palfrey 
forward,  and,  passing  Sir  Frederick  with  a  familiar  nod 
as  he  stood  ready  to  take  her  horse's  rein,  she  cantered 
on  and  jumped  into  the  arms  of  the  old  groom.  Fain 
would  Isabella  have  done  the  same  had  she  dared;  but 
her  father  stood  near,  displeasure  already  darkening  on 
a  countenance  pecuHarly  qualified  to  express  the  harsher 
passions,  and  she  was  compelled  to  receive  the  unwel- 
come assiduities  of  her  detested  suitor. 


CHAPTER  VI 


Let  not  us  that  are  squires  of  the  night's  body  be  called  thieves  of  the  day's  booty;  let 
us  be  Diana's  foresters,  gentlemen  of  the  shade,  minions  of  the  moon. 

Henry  IV,  Part  I. 

The  Solitary  had  consumed  the  remainder  of  that  day 
in  which  he  had  the  interview  with  the  young  ladies 
within  the  precincts  of  his  garden.  Evening  again  found 
him  seated  on  his  favourite  stone.  The  sun  setting  red, 
and  among  seas  of  rolling  clouds,  threw  a  gloomy  lustre 
over  the  moor,  and  gave  a  deeper  purple  to  the  broad 
outline  of  heathy  mountains  which  surrounded  this  deso- 
late spot.  The  Dwarf  sate  watching  the  clouds  as  they 
lowered  above  each  other  in  masses  of  conglomerated 
vapours,  and,  as  a  strong  lurid  beam  of  the  sinking  lum- 
inary darted  full  on  his  solitary  and  uncouth  figure,  he 
might  well  have  seemed  the  demon  of  the  storm  which 
was  gathering,  or  some  gnome  summoned  forth  from 
the  recesses  of  the  earth  by  the  subterranean  signals  of 
its  approach.  As  he  sate  thus,  with  his  dark  eye  turned 
towards  the  scowling  and  blackening  heaven,  a  horse- 
man rode  rapidly  up  to  him,  and  stopping,  as  if  to  let 
his  horse  breathe  for  an  instant,  made  a  sort  of  obeisance 
to  the  anchoret,  with  an  air  betwixt  effrontery  and  em- 
barrassment. 

The  figure  of  the  rider  was  thin,  tall,  and  slender,  but 
remarkably  athletic,  bony,  and  sinewy;  like  one  who  had 
all  his  hfe  followed  those  violent  exercises  which  prevent 
the  human  form  from  increasing  in  bulk,  while  they 

250 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


harden  and  confirm  by  habit  its  muscular  powers.  His 
face,  sharp- featured,  sunburnt,  and  freckled,  had  a  sin- 
ister expression  of  violence,  impudence,  and  cunning, 
each  of  which  seemed  alternately  to  predominate  over 
the  others.  Sandy-coloured  hair  and  reddish  eyebrows, 
from  under  which  looked  forth  his  sharp  grey  eyes,  com- 
pleted the  inauspicious  outline  of  the  horseman's  phy- 
siognomy. He  had  pistols  in  his  holsters,  and  another 
pair  peeped  from  his  belt,  though  he  had  taken  some 
pains  to  conceal  them  by  buttoning  his  doublet.  He 
wore  a  rusted  steel  head-piece,  a  bufif  jacket  of  rather  an 
antique  cast,  gloves,  of  which  that  for  the  right  hand  was 
covered  with  small  scales  of  iron,  like  an  ancient  gaunt- 
let; and  a  long  broadsword  completed  his  equipage. 

'So,'  said  the  Dwarf,  'rapine  and  murder  once  more 
on  horseback.' 

'On  horseback?'  said  the  bandit;  'ay,  ay,  Elshie,  your 
leechcraft  has  set  me  on  the  bonny  bay  again.' 

'And  all  those  promises  of  amendment  which  you 
made  during  your  illness  forgotten?'  continued  Elshen- 
der. 

'AH  clear  away,  with  the  water-saps  and  panada,^ 
returned  the  unabashed  convalescent.  'Ye  ken,  El- 
shie, for  they  say  ye  are  weel  acquent  wi'  the  gentle- 
man, 

When  the  devil  was  sick,  the  devil  a  monk  would  be, 
When  the  devil  was  well,  the  devil  a  monk  was  he.' 

'Thou  say 'st  true,'  said  the  Solitary;  'as  well  divide  a 
wolf  from  his  appetite  for  carnage,  or  a  raven  from  her 
scent  of  slaughter,  as  thee  from  thy  accursed  propensi- 
ties.' 

251 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


*  Why,  what  would  you  have  me  to  do?  It's  born 
with  me,  lies  in  my  very  bluid  and  bane.  Why,  man,  the 
lads  of  Westburnflat  for  ten  lang  decents  have  been 
reivers  and  lifters.  They  have  all  drunk  hard,  lived 
high,  taking  deep  revenge  for  light  offence,  and  never 
wanted  gear  for  the  winning.' 

*  Right;  and  thou  art  as  thoroughbred  a  wolf,'  said  the 
Dwarf,  ^as  ever  leapt  a  lamb-fold  at  night.  On  what 
hell's  errand  art  thou  bound  now?' 

^Can  your  skill  not  guess?' 

*Thus  far  I  know,'  said  the  Dwarf,  Hhat  thy  purpose 
is  bad,  thy  deed  will  be  worse,  and  the  issue  worst  of  all. ' 

*  And  you  like  me  the  better  for  it,  Father  Elshie,  eh?' 
said  Westburnflat;  'you  always  said  you  did.' 

'I  have  cause  to  like  all,'  answered  the  Solitary,  Hhat 
are  scourges  to  their  fellow-creatures,  and  thou  art  a 
bloody  one.' 

*No,  I  say  not  guilty  to  that;  never  bluidy  unless 
there 's  resistance,  and  that  sets  a  man's  bristles  up,  ye 
ken.  And  this  is  nae  great  matter,  after  a';  just  to  cut 
the  comb  of  a  young  cock  that  has  been  crawing  a  little 
ower  crousely.' 

'Not  young  Earnscliff?'  said  the  Solitary,  with  some 
emotion. 

'No;  not  young  Earnscliff  —  not  young  Earnscliff 
yet;  but  his  time  may  come,  if  he  will  not  take  warning 
and  get  him  back  to  the  burrow-town  that  he's  fit  for, 
and  no  keep  skelping  about  here,  destroying  the  few  deer 
that  are  left  in  the  country,  and  pretending  to  act  as  a 
magistrate,  and  writing  letters  to  the  great  folk  at  Auld 
Reekie  about  the  disturbed  state  of  the  land.  Let  him 
take  care  o'  himselL' 


252 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


'Then  it  must  be  Hobbie  of  the  Heughfoot/  said 
Elshie.  'What  harm  has  the  lad  done  you?' 

'Harm!  nae  great  harm;  but  I  hear  he  says  I  staid 
away  from  the  ba'spiel  on  Eastern's  E'en  for  fear  of 
him;  and  it  was  only  for  fear  of  the  country  keeper,  for 
there  was  a  warrant  against  me.  I'll  stand  Hobbie 's 
feud  and  a'  his  clan's.  But  it's  not  so  much  for  that  as 
to  gie  him  a  lesson  not  to  let  his  tongue  gallop  ower 
freely  about  his  betters.  I  trow  he  will  hae  lost  the 
best  pen-feather  o'  his  wing  before  to-morrow  morning. 
Farewell,  Elshie;  there's  some  canny  boys  waiting  for 
me  down  amang  the  shaws  owerby;  I  will  see  you  as 
I  come  back,  and  bring  ye  a  blythe  tale  in  return  for 
your  leechcraft.' 

Ere  the  Dwarf  could  collect  himself  to  reply,  the  Rei- 
ver of  Westburnflat  set  spurs  to  his  horse.  The  animal, 
starting  at  one  of  the  stones  which  lay  scattered  about, 
flew  from  the  path.  The  rider  exercised  his  spurs  with- 
out moderation  or  mercy.  The  horse  became  furious, 
reared,  kicked,  plunged,  and  bolted  Hke  a  deer,  with  all 
his  four  feet  off  the  ground  at  once.  It  was  in  vain:  the 
unrelenting  rider  sate  as  if  he  had  been  a  part  of  the 
horse  which  he  bestrode;  and,  after  a  short  but  furious 
contest,  compelled  the  subdued  animal  to  proceed  upon 
the  path  at  a  rate  which  soon  carried  him  out  of  sight 
of  the  Solitary. 

'That  villain,'  exclaimed  the  Dwarf  —  'that  cool- 
blooded,  hardened,  unrelenting  ruffian  —  that  wretch, 
whose  every  thought  is  infected  with  crimes  —  has 
thewes  and  sinews,  limbs,  strength,  and  activity  enough, 
to  compel  a  nobler  animal  than  himself  to  carry  him  to 
the  place  where  he  is  to  perpetrate  his  wickedness;  while 

253 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


I,  had  I  the  weakness  to  wish  to  put  his  wretched  victim 
on  his  guard,  and  to  save  the  helpless  family,  would  see 
my  good  intentions  frustrated  by  the  decrepitude  which 
chains  me  to  the  spot.  Why  should  I  wish  it  were  other- 
wise? What  have  my  screech-owl  voice,  my  hideous 
form,  and  my  misshapen  features  to  do  with  the  fairer 
workmanship  of  nature?  Do  not  men  receive  even  my 
benefits  with  shrinking  horror  and  ill-suppressed  disgust? 
And  why  should  I  interest  myself  in  a  race  which  ac- 
counts me  a  prodigy  and  an  outcast,  and  which  has 
treated  me  as  such?  No;  by  all  the  ingratitude  which  I 
have  reaped,  by  all  the  wrongs  which  I  have  sustained, 
by  my  imprisonment,  my  stripes,  my  chains,  I  will  wres- 
tle down  my  feelings  of  rebellious  humanity!  I  will  not 
be  the  fool  I  have  been,  to  swerve  from  my  principles 
whenever  there  was  an  appeal,  forsooth,  to  my  feelings; 
as  if  I,  towards  whom  none  show  sympathy,  ought  to 
have  sympathy  with  any  one.  Let  Destiny  drive  forth 
her  scythed  car  through  the  overwhelmed  and  trem- 
bling mass  of  humanity!  Shall  I  be  the  idiot  to  throw 
this  decrepit  form,  this  misshapen  lump  of  mortality, 
under  her  wheels,  that  the  Dwarf,  the  Wizard,  the 
Hunchback  may  save  from  destruction  some  fair  form 
or  some  active  frame,  and  all  the  world  clap  their  hands 
at  the  exchange?  No,  never!  And  yet  this  Elliot  —  this 
Hobbie,  so  young  and  gallant,  so  frank,  so  —  I  will 
think  of  it  no  longer.  I  cannot  aid  him  if  I  would,  and  I 
am  resolved  —  firmly  resolved  —  that  I  would  not  aid 
him  if  a  wish  were  the  pledge  of  his  safety!' 

Having  thus  ended  his  soKloquy,  he  retreated  into  his 
hut  for  shelter  from  the  storm  which  was  fast  approach- 
ing, and  now  began  to  burst  in  large  and  heavy  drops  of 

254 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


rain.  The  last  rays  of  the  sun  now  disappeared  entirely, 
and  two  or  three  claps  of  distant  thunder  followed  each 
other  at  brief  intervals,  echoing  and  reechoing  among 
the  range  of  heathy  fells  like  the  sound  of  a  distant 
engagement. 


CHAPTER  VII 

Proud  bird  of  tbe  mountaiD,  thy  plume  shall  be  torn! 

Return  to  thy  dwelling,  all  lonely,  return  ; 

For  the  blackness  of  ashes  shall  mark  where  it  stood, 

And  a  wild  mother  scream  o'er  her  famishing  brood. 

Campbell. 

The  night  continued  sullen  and  stormy;  but  morning 
rose  as  if  refreshed  by  the  rains.  Even  the  Mucklestane 
Moor,  with  its  broad  bleak  swells  of  barren  grounds,  in- 
terspersed with  marshy  pools  of  water,  seemed  to  smile 
under  the  serene  influence  of  the  sky,  just  as  good- 
humour  can  spread  a  certain  inexpressible  charm  over 
the  plainest  human  countenance.  The  heath  was  in  its 
thickest  and  deepest  bloom.  The  bees,  which  the  Soli- 
tary had  added  to  his  rural  establishment,  were  abroad 
and  on  the  wing,  and  filled  the  air  with  the  murmurs  of 
their  industry.  As  the  old  man  crept  out  of  his  Kttle 
hut  his  two  she-goats  came  to  meet  him,  and  licked  his 
hands  in  gratitude  for  the  vegetables  with  which  he  sup- 
plied them  from  his  garden.  ^  You,  at  least,'  he  said  — • 
^you,  at  least,  see  no  differences  in  form  which  can  alter 
your  feelings  to  a  benefactor;  to  you  the  finest  shape  that 
ever  statuary  moulded  would  be  an  object  of  indifference 
or  of  alarm,  should  it  present  itself  instead  of  the  mis- 
shapen trunk  to  whose  services  you  are  accustomed. 
While  I  was  in  the  world,  did  I  ever  meet  with  such  a 
return  of  gratitude?  No;  the  domestic  whom  I  had  bred 
from  infancy  made  mouths  at  me  as  he  stood  behind  my 

256 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


chair;  the  friend  whom  I  had  supported  with  my  fortune, 
and  for  whose  sake  I  had  even  stained  —  (he  stopped 
with  a  strong  convulsive  shudder).  Even  he  thought 
me  more  fit  for  the  society  of  lunatics,  for  their  disgrace- 
ful restraints,  for  their  cruel  privations,  than  for  com- 
munication with  the  rest  of  humanity.  Hubert  alone  — • 
and  Hubert  too  will  one  day  abandon  me.  All  are  of  a 
piece  —  one  mass  of  wickedness,  selfishness,  and  ingrat- 
itude —  wretches  who  sin  even  in  their  devotions,  and 
of  such  hardness  of  heart  that  they  do  not,  without 
hypocrisy,  even  thank  the  Deity  Himself  for  his  warm 
sun  and  pure  air.' 

As  he  was  plunged  in  these  gloomy  soliloquies,  he 
heard  the  tramp  of  a  horse  on  the  other  side  of  his  in- 
closure,  and  a  strong  clear  bass  voice  singing  with  the 
liveliness  inspired  by  a  light  heart  — 

Canny  Hobbie  Elliot,  canny  Hobbie  now, 
Canny  Hobbie  Elliot,  I'se  gang  alang  wi*  you. 

At  the  same  moment  a  large  deer  greyhound  sprung 
over  the  hermit's  fence.  It  is  well  known  to  the  sports- 
men in  these  wilds  that  the  appearance  and  scent  of  the 
goat  so  much  resemble  those  of  their  usual  objects  of 
chase  that  the  best-broke  greyhounds  will  sometimes  fly 
upon  them.  The  dog  in  question  instantly  pulled  down 
and  throttled  one  of  the  hermit's  she-goats,  while  Hob- 
bie Elliot,  who  came  up  and  jumped  from  his  horse  for 
the  purpose,  was  unable  to  extricate  the  harmless  ani- 
mal from  the  fangs  of  his  attendant  until  it  was  expir- 
ing. The  Dwarf  eyed,  for  a  few  moments,  the  convulsive 
starts  of  his  dying  favourite,  until  the  poor  goat  stretched 
out  her  limbs  with  the  twitches  and  shivering  fit  of  the 

6  257 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


last  agony.  He  then  started  into  an  access  of  frenzy,  and 
unsheathing  a  long  sharp  knife  or  dagger  which  he  wore 
under  his  coat,  he  was  about  to  launch  it  at  the  dog, 
when  Hobbie,  perceiving  his  purpose,  interposed,  and 
caught  hold  of  his  hand,  exclaiming,  ^Let  a  be  the  hound, 
man  —  let  a  be  the  hound !  Na,  na,  Killbuck  maunna  be 
guided  that  gate,  neither.' 

The  Dwarf  turned  his  rage  on  the  young  farmer; 
and  by  a  sudden  effort,  far  more  powerful  than  Hobbie 
expected  from  such  a  person,  freed  his  wrist  from  his 
grasp  and  offered  the  dagger  at  his  heart.  All  this  was 
done  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  and  the  incensed  Recluse 
might  have  completed  his  vengeance  by  plunging  the 
weapon  in  Elliot's  bosom,  had  he  not  been  checked  by 
an  internal  impulse  which  made  him  hurl  the  knife  to 
a  distance. 

'No,'  he  exclaimed,  as  he  thus  voluntarily  deprived 
himself  of  the  means  of  gratifying  his  rage;  'not  again  — 
not  again!' 

Hobbie  retreated  a  step  or  two  in  great  surprise,  dis- 
composure, and  disdain  at  having  been  placed  in  such 
danger  by  an  object  apparently  so  contemptible. 

'The  deil's  in  the  body  for  strength  and  bitterness!' 
were  the  first  words  that  escaped  him,  which  he  followed 
up  with  an  apology  for  the  accident  that  had  given  rise 
to  their  disagreement.  'I  am  no  justifying  Klillbuck 
a'thegither  neither,  and  I  am  sure  it  is  as  vexing  to  me 
as  to  you,  Elshie,  that  the  mischance  should  hae  hap- 
pened; but  I'll  send  you  twa  goats  and  twa  fat  gimmers, 
man,  to  make  a'  straight  again.  A  wise  man  hke  you 
shouldna  bear  malice  against  a  poor  dumb  thing;  ye 
see  that  a  goat's  like  first-cousin  to  a  deer,  sae  he 

258 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


acted  but  according  to  his  nature  after  a\  Had  it  been 
a  pet  lamb  there  wad  hae  been  mair  to  be  said.  Ye  suld 
keep  sheep,  Elshie,  and  no  goats,  where  there 's  sae  mony 
deer-hounds  about;  but  I'll  send  ye  baith.' 

^Wretch!'  said  the  Hermit,  'your  cruelty  has  de- 
stroyed one  of  the  only  creatures  in  existence  that  would 
look  on  me  with  kindness! ' 

'Dear  Elshie,'  answered  Hobbie,  'I'm  wae  ye  suld  hae 
cause  to  say  sae;  I 'm  sure  it  wasna  wi'  my  will.  And  yet, 
it's  true,  I  should  hae  minded  your  goats,  and  coupled 
up  the  dogs.  I 'm  sure  I  would  rather  they  had  worried 
the  primest  wether  in  my  faulds.  Come,  man,  forget  and 
forgie.  I 'm  e'en  as  vexed  as  ye  can  be.  But  I  am  a  bride- 
groom, ye  see,  and  that  puts  a'  things  out  o'  my  head, 
I  think.  There's  the  marriage-dinner,  or  gude  part  o't, 
that  my  twa  brithers  are  bringing  on  a  sled  round  by  the 
Riders'  Slack  —  three  goodly  bucks  as  ever  ran  on  Dal- 
lomlea,  as  the  sang  says;  they  couldna  come  the  straight 
road  for  the  saft  grund.  I  wad  send  ye  a  bit  venison, 
but  ye  wadna  take  it  weel  maybe,  for  Killbuck  catched 
it' 

During  this  long  speech,  in  which  the  good-natured 
Borderer  endeavoured  to  propitiate  the  offended  Dwarf 
by  every  argument  he  could  think  of,  he  heard  him  with 
his  eyes  bent  on  the  ground,  as  if  in  the  deepest  medi- 
tation, and  at  length  broke  forth:  'Nature!  Yes,  it  is 
indeed  in  the  usual  beaten  path  of  Nature.  The  strong 
gripe  and  throttle  the  weak;  the  rich  depress  and  despoil 
the  needy;  the  happy  —  those  who  are  idiots  enough  to 
think  themselves  happy  —  insult  the  misery  and  dimin- 
ish the  consolation  of  the  wretched.  Go  hence,  thou  who 
hast  contrived  to  give  an  additional  pang  to  the  most 

259 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

miserable  of  human  beings  —  thou  who  hast  deprived 
me  of  what  I  half  considered  as  a  source  of  comfort.  Go 
hence,  and  enjoy  the  happiness  prepared  for  thee  at 
home!^ 

*  Never  stir/  said  Hobbie,  'if  I  wadna  take  you  wi'  me, 
man,  if  ye  wad  but  say  it  wad  divert  ye  to  be  at  the 
bridal  on  Monday.  There  will  be  a  hundred  strapping 
Elliots  to  ride  the  brouze:  the  like 's  no  been  seen  sin'  the 
days  of  auld  Martin  of  the  Preakin  Tower.  I  wad  send 
the  sled  for  ye  wi'  a  canny  powny.' 

*  Is  it  to  me  you  propose  once  more  to  mix  in  the  soci- 
ety of  the  common  herd?'  said  the  Recluse,  with  an  air 
of  deep  disgust. 

Commons!'  retorted  Hobbie,  'nae  siccan  commons 
neither;  the  Elliots  hae  been  lang  kend  a  gentle  race.' 

'Hence!  begone! '  reiterated  the  Dwarf;  'may  the  same 
evil  luck  attend  thee  that  thou  hast  left  behind  with  me! 
If  I  go  not  with  you  myself,  see  if  you  can  escape  what 
my  attendants,  Wrath  and  Misery,  have  brought  to  thy 
threshold  before  thee. ' 

'I  wish  ye  wadna  speak  that  gate,'  said  Hobbie.  'Ye 
ken  yoursell,  Elshie,  naebody  judges  you  to  be  ower 
canny.  Now,  I  '11  tell  ye  just  ae  word  for  a' :  ye  hae 
spoken  as  muckle  as  wussing  ill  to  me  and  mine;  now, 
if  ony  mischance  happen  to  Grace  —  which  God  forbid 
—  or  to  mysell,  or  to  the  poor  dumb  tyke,  or  if  I  be 
skaithed  and  injured  in  body,  gudes,  or  gear,  I'll  no 
forget  wha  it  is  that  it 's  owing  to.' 

'Out,  hind!'  exclaimed  the  Dwarf;  'home!  home  to 
your  dwelling,  and  think  on  me  when  you  find  what  has 
befallen  there.' 

'Aweel,  aweel,'  said  Hobbie,  mounting  his  horse,  'it 
260 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


serves  naething  to  strive  wi'  cripples,  they  are  aye  can- 
kered; but  I'll  just  tell  ye  ae  thing,  neighbour,  that  if 
things  be  otherwise  than  weel  wi'  Grace  Armstrong,  I  'se 
gie  you  a  scouther  if  there  be  a  tar-barrel  in  the  five 
parishes/ 

So  saying,  he  rode  ofT;  and  Elshie,  after  looking  at  him 
with  a  scornful  and  indignant  laugh,  took  spade  and 
mattock  and  occupied  himself  in  digging  a  grave  for  his 
deceased  favourite. 

A  low  whistle,  and  the  words,  ^Hisht,  Elshie,  hisht!' 
disturbed  him  in  this  melancholy  occupation.  He  looked 
up,  and  the  Red  Reiver  of  Westburnflat  was  before  him. 
Like  Banquo's  murderer,  there  was  blood  on  his  face,  as 
well  as  upon  the  rowels  of  his  spurs  and  the  sides  of  his 
over-ridden  horse. 

^How  now,  rufiian?'  demanded  the  Dwarf,  ^is  thy  job 
chared? ' 

'Ay,  ay,  doubt  not  that,  Elshie,'  answered  the  free- 
booter; 'when  I  ride,  my  foes  may  moan.  They  have 
had  mair  light  than  comfort  at  the  Heughfoot  this  morn- 
ing :  there 's  a  toom  byre  and  a  wide,  and  a  wail  and  a  cry 
for  the  bonny  bride/ 

'The  bride?' 

'Ay;  Charlie  Cheat- the- Woodie,  as  we  ca'  him  — 
that's  Charlie  Foster  of  Tinning  Beck,  has  promised  to 
keep  her  in  Cumberland  till  the  blast  blaw  by.  She  saw 
me  and  kend  me  in  the  splore,  for  the  mask  fell  frae  my 
face  for  a  blink.  I  am  thinking  it  wad  concern  my  safety 
if  she  were  to  come  back  here;  for  there's  mony  o'  the 
Elliots,  and  they  band  weel  thegither  for  right  or  wrang. 
Now,  what  I  chiefly  come  to  ask  your  rede  in,  is  how  to 
make  her  sure?' 

261 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


^Wouldst  thou  murder  her,  then?' 

^Umph!  no,  no;  that  I  would  not  do,  if  I  could  help  it. 
But  they  say  they  can  whiles  get  folk  cannily  away  to 
the  plantations  from  some  of  the  out-ports,  and  some- 
thing to  boot  for  them  that  brings  a  bonny  wench. 
They're  wanted  beyond  seas  thae  female  cattle,  and 
they're  no  that  scarce  here.  But  I  think  o'  doing  better 
for  this  lassie.  There's  a  leddy  that,  unless  she  be  a'  the 
better  bairn,  is  to  be  sent  to  foreign  parts  whether  she 
will  or  no;  now,  I  think  of  sending  Grace  to  wait  on  her; 
she's  a  bonny  lassie.  Hobbie  will  hae  a  merry  morning 
when  he  comes  hame  and  misses  baith  bride  and  gear.* 

^Ay;  and  do  you  not  pity  him? '  said  the  Recluse. 

*Wad  he  pity  me  were  I  gaeing  up  the  castle  hill  at 
Jeddart?^  And  yet  I  rue  something  for  the  bit  lassie; 
but  he'll  get  anither,  and  little  skaith  dune.  Ane  is 
as  gude  as  anither.  And  now,  you  that  like  to  hear  o* 
splores,  heard  ye  ever  o'  a  better  ane  than  I  hae  had  this 
morning?' 

^  Air,  ocean,  and  fire,'  said  the  Dwarf,  speaking  to  him- 
self, 'the  earthquake,  the  tempest,  the  volcano,  are  all 
mild  and  moderate  compared  to  the  wrath  of  man.  And 
what  is  this  fellow  but  one  more  skilled  than  others  in 
executing  the  end  of  his  existence?  Hear  me,  felon,  go 
again  where  I  before  sent  thee.' 

'To  the  steward?' 

'Ay;  and  tell  him  Elshender  the  Recluse  commands 
him  to  give  thee  gold.  But  hear  me,  let  the  maiden  be 
discharged  free  and  uninjured;  return  her  to  her  friends, 
and  let  her  swear  not  to  discover  thy  villainy.' 

^  The  place  of  execution  at  that  ancient  burgh,  where  many  of  West- 
burnflat's  profession  have  made  their  final  exit. 

262 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


*  Swear!'  said  Westburnflat;  'but  what  if  she  break 
her  aith?  Women  are  not  famous  for  keeping  their 
plight.  A  wise  man  like  you  should  ken  that.  And  un- 
injured !  Wha  kens  what  may  happen  were  she  to  be  left 
lang  at  Tinning  Beck?  Charlie  Cheat-the-Woodie  is  a 
rough  customer.  But,  if  the  gold  could  be  made  up  to 
twenty  pieces,  I  think  I  could  ensure  her  being  wi'  her 
friends  within  the  twenty-four  hours.' 

The  Dwarf  took  his  tablets  from  his  pocket,  marked  a 
line  on  them,  and  tore  out  the  leaf.  'There,'  he  said,  giv- 
ing the  robber  the  leaf.  'But,  mark  me  —  thou  knowest 
I  am  not  to  be  fooled  by  thy  treachery  —  if  thou  darest 
to  disobey  my  directions,  thy  wretched  life,  be  sure,  shall 
answer  it.' 

'I  know,'  said  the  fellow,  looking  down,  'that  you 
have  power  on  earth,  however  you  came  by  it:  you  can 
do  what  nae  other  man  can  do,  baith  by  physic  and  fore- 
sight; and  the  gold  is  shelled  down,  when  ye  command, 
as  fast  as  I  have  seen  the  ash-keys  fall  in  a  frosty  morn- 
ing in  October.  I  will  not  disobey  you.' 

'Begone,  then,  and  relieve  me  of  thy  hateful  presence.' 

The  robber  set  spurs  to  his  horse  and  rode  off  without 
reply. 

Hobbie  Elliot  had,  in  the  meanwhile,  pursued  his 
journey  rapidly,  harassed  by  those  oppressive  and  indis- 
tinct fears  that  all  was  not  right  which  men  usually  term 
a  presentiment  of  misfortune.  Ere  he  reached  the  top  of 
the  bank  from  which  he  could  look  down  on  his  own 
habitation,  he  was  met  by  his  nurse,  a  person  then  of 
great  consequence  in  all  families  in  Scotland,  whether  of 
the  higher  or  middling  classes.  The  connexion  between 
them  and  their  foster-children  was  considered  a  tie  far 

263 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


too  dearly  intimate  to  be  broken;  and  it  usually  hap- 
pened, in  the  course  of  years,  that  the  nurse  became  a 
resident  in  the  family  of  her  foster-son,  assisting  in  the 
domestic  duties,  and  receiving  all  marks  of  attention  and 
regard  from  the  heads  of  the  family.  So  soon  as  Hobbie 
recognised  the  figure  of  Annaple,  in  her  red  cloak  and 
black  hood,  he  could  not  help  exclaiming  to  himself, 
'What  ill-luck  can  hae  brought  the  auld  nurse  sae  far 
frae  hame,  her  that  never  stirs  a  gun-shot  frae  the  door- 
stane  for  ordinar?  Hout,  it  will  just  be  to  get  crane- 
berries  or  whortle-berries,  or  some  such  stuff,  out  of  the 
moss,  to  make  the  pies  and  tarts  for  the  feast  on  Mon- 
day. I  cannot  get  the  words  of  that  cankered  auld  crip- 
ple deil's-buckie  out  o'  my  head:  the  least  thing  makes 
me  dread  some  ill  news.  O,  Killbuck,  man!  were  there 
nae  deer  and  goats  in  the  country  besides,  but  ye  be- 
hoved to  gang  and  worry  his  creature  by  a'  other  folk's  ?  * 

By  this  time  Annaple,  with  a  brow  like  a  tragic  vol- 
ume, had  hobbled  towards  him  and  caught  his  horse  by 
the  bridle.  The  despair  in  her  look  was  so  evident  as  to 
deprive  even  him  of  the  power  of  asking  the  cause.  '0 
my  bairn!'  she  cried,  'gang  na  forward  —  gang  na  for- 
ward; it's  a  sight  to  kill  ony  body,  let  alane  thee.' 

'In  God's  name,  what's  the  matter?'  said  the  aston- 
ished horseman,  endeavouring  to  extricate  his  bridle 
from  the  grasp  of  the  old  woman;  'for  Heaven's  sake,  let 
me  go  and  see  what's  the  matter.' 

'Ohon!  that  I  should  have  lived  to  see  the  day!  The 
steading 's  a'  in  a  low,  and  the  bonny  stackyard  lying  in 
the  red  ashes,  and  the  gear  a'  driven  away.  But  gang  na 
forward;  it  wad  break  your  young  heart,  hinny,  to  see 
what  my  auld  een  hae  seen  this  morning.' 

264 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


'And  who  has  dared  to  do  this?  Let  go  my  bridle,  An- 
naple.  Where  is  my  grandmother,  my  sisters?  Where  is 
Grace  Armstrong?  God!  the  words  of  the  warlock  are 
knelling  in  my  ears ! ' 

He  sprang  from  his  horse  to  rid  himself  of  Annaple's 
interruption,  and,  ascending  the  hill  with  great  speed, 
soon  came  in  view  of  the  spectacle  with  which  she  had 
threatened  him.  It  was  indeed  a  heart-breaking  sight. 
The  habitation  which  he  had  left  in  its  seclusion,  be- 
side the  mountain-stream,  surrounded  with  every  evid- 
ence of  rustic  plenty,  was  now  a  wasted  and  blackened 
ruin.  From  amongst  the  shattered  and  sable  walls  the 
smoke  continued  to  rise.  The  turf-stack,  the  barn-yard, 
the  offices  stocked  with  cattle,  all  the  wealth  of  an  up- 
land cultivator  of  the  period,  of  which  poor  Elliot  pos- 
sessed no  common  share,  had  been  laid  waste  or  carried 
off  in  a  single  night.  He  stood  a  moment  motionless,  and 
then  exclaimed,  '  I  am  ruined  —  ruined  to  the  ground! 
But  curse  on  the  warld's  gear  —  had  it  not  been  the 
week  before  the  bridal!  But  I  am  nae  babe,  to  sit  down 
and  greet  about  it.  If  I  can  but  find  Grace  and  my 
grandmother  and  my  sisters  weel,  I  can  go  to  the  wars 
in  Flanders,  as  my  gude-sire  did,  under  the  Bellenden 
banner,  wi'  auld  Buccleuch.  At  ony  rate,  I  will  keep 
up  a  heart,  or  they  will  lose  theirs  a'thegither.' 

Manfully  strode  Hobbie  down  the  hill,  resolved  to 
suppress  his  own  despair  and  administer  consolation 
which  he  did  not  feel.  The  neighbouring  inhabitants  of 
the  dell,  particularly  those  of  his  own  name,  had  already 
assembled.  The  younger  part  were  in  arms  and  clamor- 
ous for  revenge,  although  they  knew  not  upon  whom; 
the  elder  were  taking  measures  for  the  relief  of  the  dis- 

265 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


tressed  family.  Annaple's  cottage,  which  was  situated 
down  the  brook,  at  some  distance  from  the  scene  of  mis- 
chief, had  been  hastily  adapted  for  the  temporary 
accommodation  of  the  old  lady  and  her  daughters,  with 
such  articles  as  had  been  contributed  by  the  neighbours, 
for  very  little  was  saved  from  the  wreck. 

*Are  we  to  stand  here  a'  day,  sirs,'  exclaimed  one  tall 
young  man, '  and  look  at  the  burnt  wa's  of  our  kinsman's 
house?  Every  wreath  of  the  reek  is  a  blast  of  shame 
upon  us!  Let  us  to  horse  and  take  the  chase.  Who  has 
the  nearest  bloodhound?' 

'It's  young  Earnscliff,'  answered  another;  'and  he's 
been  on  and  away  wi'  six  horse  lang  syne,  to  see  if  he  can 
track  them.' 

'Let  us  follow  him  then,  and  raise  the  country,  and 
mak  mair  help  as  we  ride,  and  then  have  at  the  Cum- 
berland reivers!  Take,  burn,  and  slay;  they  that  lie 
nearest  us  shall  smart  first.' 

'Whisht!  baud  your  tongues,  daft  callants,'  said  an 
old  man,  'ye  dinna  ken  what  ye  speak  about.  What! 
wad  ye  raise  war  atween  twa  pacificated  countries? ' 

'And  what  signifies  deaving  us  wi'  tales  about  our 
fathers,'  retorted  the  young  man,  'if  we're  to  sit  and 
see  our  friends'  houses  burnt  ower  their  heads,  and  no 
put  out  hand  to  revenge  them?  Our  fathers  did  not  do 
that,  I  trow?' 

'I  am  no  saying  ony  thing  against  revenging  Hob- 
ble's wrang,  puir  chield;  but  we  maun  take  the  law  wi' 
us  in  thae  days,  Simon,'  answered  the  more  prudent 
elder. 

'And  besides,'  said  another  old  man,  'I  dinna  believe 
there's  ane  now  living  that  kens  the  lawful  mode  of  fol- 

266 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


lowing  a  fray  across  the  Border.  Tarn  o'  Whittram  kend 
a'  about  it;  but  he  died  in  the  hard  winter/ 

'Ay/  said  a  third,  'he  was  at  the  great  gathering,  when 
they  chased  as  far  as  Thirlwall;  it  was  the  year  after  the 
fight  of  Philiphaugh.' 

'  Hout,'  exclaimed  another  of  these  discording  counsel- 
lors, 'there's  nae  great  skill  needed;  just  put  a  lighted 
peat  on  the  end  of  a  spear  or  hay-fork,  or  sic-like,  and 
blaw  a  horn,  and  cry  the  gathering- word,  and  then  it's 
lawful  to  follow  gear  into  England,  and  recover  it  by  the 
strong  hand,  or  to  take  gear  frae  some  other  English- 
man, providing  ye  lift  nae  mair  than 's  been  lifted  frae 
you.  That 's  the  auld  Border  law,  made  at  Dundrennan, 
in  the  days  of  the  Black  Douglas.  Deil  ane  need  doubt  it. 
It's  as  clear  as  the  sun.' 

'Come  away,  then,  lads,'  cried  Simon,  ^ get  to  your 
geldings,  and  we'll  take  auld  Cuddie  the  muckle  tasker 
wi'  us;  he  kens  the  value  o'  the  stock  and  plenishing 
that 's  been  lost.  Hobbie's  stalls  and  stakes  shall  be  fou 
again  or  night;  and  if  we  canna  big  up  the  auld  house 
sae  soon,  we'se  lay  an  English  ane  as  low  as  Heughfoot 
is;  and  that's  fair  play,  a'  the  warld  ower.' 

This  animating  proposal  was  received  with  great  ap- 
plause by  the  younger  part  of  the  assemblage,  when  a 
whisper  ran  among  them,  'There's  Hobbie  himsell,  puir 
fallow!  we'll  be  guided  by  him.' 

The  principal  sufferer,  having  now  reached  the  bot- 
tom of  the  hill,  pushed  on  through  the  crowd,  unable, 
from  the  tumultuous  state  of  his  feelings,  to  do  more 
than  receive  and  return  the  grasps  of  the  friendly  hands 
by  which  his  neighbours  and  kinsmen  mutely  expressed 
their  sympathy  in  his  misfortune.  While  he  pressed 

267 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


Simon  of  Hackburn's  hand,  his  anxiety  at  length  found 
words.  ^ Thank  ye,  Simon  —  thank  ye,  neighbours;  I 
ken  what  ye  wad  a'  say.  But  where  are  they?  Where 
are — '  He  stopped,  as  if  afraid  even  to  name  the  ob- 
jects of  his  inquiry;  and  with  a  similar  feeling  his  kins- 
men, without  reply,  pointed  to  the  hut,  into  which  Hob- 
bie  precipitated  himself  with  the  desperate  air  of  one 
who  is  resolved  to  know  the  worst  at  once.  A  general 
and  powerful  expression  of  sympathy  accompanied  him. 
'Ah,  puir  fallow,  puir  Hobbie!' 

'He'll  learn  the  warst  o't  now!' 

'But  I  trust  Earnscliff  will  get  some  speerings  o'  the 
puir  lassie.' 

Such  were  the  exclamations  of  the  group,  who,  having 
no  acknowledged  leader  to  direct  their  motions,  pas- 
sively awaited  the  return  of  the  sufferer,  and  deter- 
mined to  be  guided  by  his  directions. 

The  meeting  between  Hobbie  and  his  family  was  in 
the  highest  degree  affecting.  His  sisters  threw  them- 
selves upon  him  and  almost  stifled  him  with  their  ca- 
resses, as  if  to  prevent  his  looking  round  to  distinguish 
the  absence  of  one  yet  more  beloved. 

'God  help  thee,  my  son!  He  can  help  when  worldly 
trust  is  a  broken  reed.'  Such  was  the  welcome  of  the 
matron  to  her  unfortunate  grandson.  He  looked  eagerly 
round,  holding  two  of  his  sisters  by  the  hand,  while 
the  third  hung  about  his  neck.  'I  see  you,  I  count 
you  —  my  grandmother,  Lilias,  Jean,  and  Annot;  but 
where  is  — 'he  hesitated,  and  then  continued,  as  if 
with  an  effort — 'where  is  Grace?  Surely  this  is  not  a 
time  to  hide  hersell  frae  me;  there's  nae  time  for 
daffing  now.' 

268 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


*0,  brother!'  and  ^Our  poor  Grace! 'was  the  only 
answer  his  questions  could  procure,  till  his  grandmother 
rose  up  and  gently  disengaged  him  from  the  weeping 
girls,  led  him  to  a  seat,  and  with  the  affecting  serenity 
which  sincere  piety,  Uke  oil  sprinkled  on  the  waves,  can 
throw  over  the  most  acute  feelings,  she  said,  ^  My  bairn, 
when  thy  grandfather  was  killed  in  the  wars,  and  left  me 
with  six  orphans  around  me,  with  scarce  bread  to  eat  or 
a  roof  to  cover  us,  I  had  strength  —  not  of  mine  own  — 
but  I  had  strength  given  me  to  say,  ^'The  Lord's  will  be 
done!"  My  son,  our  peaceful  house  was  last  night  bro- 
ken into  by  moss-troopers,  armed  and  masked;  they 
have  taken  and  destroyed  all,  and  carried  off  our  dear 
Grace.  Pray  for  strength  to  say,  *^His  will  be  done!"' 

'Mother!  mother!  urge  me  not,  I  cannot  —  not  now; 
I  am  a  sinful  man,  and  of  a  hardened  race.  Masked  — 
armed  —  Grace  carried  off!  Gie  me  my  sword  and  my 
father's  knapscap;  I  will  have  vengeance,  if  I  should  go 
to  the  pit  of  darkness  to  seek  it!' 

'  0  my  bairn,  my  bairn !  be  patient  under  the  rod.  Who 
knows  when  He  may  lift  his  hand  off  from  us  ?  Young 
Earnscliff ,  Heaven  bless  him !  has  taen  the  chase,  with 
Davie  of  Stenhouse  and  the  first  comers.  I  cried  to  let 
house  and  plenishing  burn,  and  follow  the  reivers  to  re- 
cover Grace,  and  Earnscliff  and  his  men  were  ower  the 
Fell  within  three  hours  after  the  deed.  God  bless  him ! 
he's  a  real  Earnscliff;  he's  his  father's  true  son,  a  leal 
friend.' 

*  A  true  friend  indeed,  God  bless  him ! '  exclaimed  Hob- 
ble; 'let's  on  and  away,  and  take  the  chase  after  him.' 

'0,  my  child,  before  you  run  on  danger,  let  me  hear 
you  but  say,  "His  will  be  done!"' 

269 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


'Urge  me  not,  mother  —  not  now/  He  was  rushing 
out,  when,  looking  back,  he  observed  his  grandmother 
make  a  mute  attitude  of  affliction.  He  returned  hastily, 
threw  himself  into  her  arms,  and  said,  'Yes,  mother,  I 
can  say,  "His  will  be  done,"  since  it  will  comfort  you/ 

'May  He  go  forth  —  may  He  go  forth  with  you,  my 
dear  bairn;  and  0,  may  He  give  you  cause  to  say  on 
your  return,  "His  name  be  praised"!' 

'Farewell,  mother!  farewell,  my  dear  sisters!'  ex- 
claimed Elliot,  and  rushed  out  of  the  house. 


CHAPTER  VIII 


Now  horse  and  hattock,  cried  the  Laird  — 

Now  horse  and  hattock,  speedilie; 
They  that  winna  ride  for  Telfer's  kye, 

Let  them  never  look  in  the  face  o'  me. 

Border  Ballad, 

*  Horse  !  horse !  and  spear ! '  exclaimed  Hobbie  to  his  kins- 
men. Many  a  ready  foot  was  in  the  stirrup;  and,  while 
Elliot  hastily  collected  arms  and  accoutrements,  no  easy 
matter  in  such  a  confusion,  the  glen  resounded  with  the 
approbation  of  his  younger  friends. 

*Ay,  ay!'  exclaimed  Simon  of  Hackburn,  that's  the 
gate  to  take  it,  Hobbie.  Let  women  sit  and  greet  at 
hame,  men  must  do  as  they  have  been  done  by;  it's  the 
Scripture  says't.' 

'Haud  your  tongue,  sir,'  said  one  of  the  seniors, 
sternly;  Minna  abuse  the  Word  that  gate,  ye  dinna  ken 
what  ye  speak  about.' 

^Hae  ye  ony  tidings?  Hae  ye  ony  speerings,  Hobbie?  O, 
callants,  dinna  be  ower-hasty,'said  old  Dick  of  the  Dingle. 

*What  signifies  preaching  to  us,  e'enow?'  said  Simon; 
'if  ye  canna  make  help  yoursell,  dinna  keep  back  them 
that  can.' 

*  Whisht,  sir;  wad  ye  take  vengeance  or  ye  ken  wha  has 
wrang'd  ye? ' 

'D'ye  think  we  dinna  ken  the  road  to  England  as  weel 
as  our  fathers  before  us?  All  evil  comes  out  o'  thereaway 
—  it's  an  auld  saying  and  a  true;  and  we'll  e'en  away 
there,  as  if  the  devil  was  blawing  us  south.' 

271 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


^We'U  follow  the  track  o'  Earnscliff's  horses  ower  the 
waste,'  cried  one  Elliot. 

*I'll  prick  them  out  through  the  blindest  moor  in  the 
Border,  an  there  had  been  a  fair  held  there  the  day  be- 
fore,' said  Hugh,  the  blacksmith  of  Ringleburn,  'for  I 
aye  shoe  his  horse  wi'  my  ain  hand.' 

'Lay  on  the  deer-hounds,'  cried  another;  'where  are 
they?' 

'Hout,  man,  the  sun 's  been  lang  up,  and  the  dew  is  aff 
the  grund;  the  scent  will  never  lie.' 

Hobbie  instantly  whistled  on  his  hounds,  which  were 
roving  about  the  ruins  of  their  old  habitation  and  filling 
the  air  with  their  doleful  howls. 

'Now,  Killbuck,'  said  Hobbie,  'try  thy  skill  this  day/ 
And  then,  as  if  a  light  had  suddenly  broke  on  him  — 
'That  ill-faur'd  goblin  spak  something  o'  this!  He  may 
ken  mair  o't,  either  by  villains  on  earth  or  devils  below; 
I'll  hae  it  frae  him,  if  I  should  cut  it  out  o'  his  misshapen 
bouk  wi'  my  whinger.'  He  then  hastily  gave  directions 
to  his  comrades:  'Four  o'  ye,  wi'  Simon,  haud  right  for- 
ward to  Graeme's  Gap.  If  they're  English,  they'll  be  for 
being  back  that  way.  The  rest  disperse  by  twasomeand 
threesome  through  the  waste,  and  meet  me  at  the  Tryst- 
ing  Pool.  Tell  my  brothers,  when  they  come  up,  to  fol- 
low and  meet  us  there.  Poor  lads,  they  will  hae  hearts 
weel-nigh  as  sair  as  mine;  little  think  they  what  a  sor- 
rowful house  they  are  bringing  their  venison  to !  I  '11  ride 
ower  Mucklestane  Moor  my  sell.' 

'And  if  I  were  you,'  said  Dick  of  the  Dingle,  'I  would 
speak  to  Canny  Elshie.  He  can  tell  you  whatever  be- 
tides in  this  land,  if  he's  sae  minded.' 

'He  shall  tell  me,'  said  Hobbie,  who  was  busy  putting 
272 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


his  arms  in  order,  ^what  he  kens  o'  this  night's  job,  or  I 
shall  right  weel  ken  wherefore  he  does  not.' 

*Ay,  but  speak  him  fair,  my  bonny  man,  speak  him 
fair,  Hobbie;  the  like  o'  him  will  no  bear  thrawing. 
They  converse  sae  muckle  wi'  thae  fractious  ghaists  and 
evil  spirits  that  it  clean  spoils  their  temper.' 

'Let  me  alane  to  guide  him,'  answered  Hobbie; 
'there's  that  in  my  breast  this  day  that  would  ower- 
maister  a'  the  warlocks  on  earth  and  a'  the  devils  in 
hell.' 

And,  being  now  fully  equipped,  he  threw  himself  on 
his  horse  and  spurred  him  at  a  rapid  pace  against  the 
steep  ascent. 

Elliot  speedily  surmounted  the  hill,  rode  down  the 
other  side  at  the  same  rate,  crossed  a  wood,  and  tra- 
versed a  long  glen,  ere  he  at  length  regained  Muckle- 
stane  Moor.  As  he  was  obliged  in  the  course  of  his  jour- 
ney to  relax  his  speed  in  consideration  of  the  labour 
which  his  horse  might  still  have  to  undergo,  he  had  time 
to  consider  maturely  in  what  manner  he  should  address 
the  Dwarf,  in  order  to  extract  from  him  the  knowledge 
which  he  supposed  him  to  be  in  possession  of  concerning 
the  authors  of  his  misfortunes.  Hobbie,  though  blunt, 
plain  of  speech,  and  hot  of  disposition,  like  most  of  his 
countr3niien,  was  by  no  means  deficient  in  the  shrewd- 
ness which  is  also  their  characteristic.  He  reflected,  that 
from  what  he  had  observed  on  the  memorable  night 
when  the  Dwarf  was  first  seen,  and  from  the  conduct  of 
that  mysterious  being  ever  since,  he  was  likely  to  be  ren- 
dered even  more  obstinate  in  his  suUenness  by  threats 
and  violence. 

'I'll  speak  him  fair,'  he  said,  'as  auld  Dickon  advised 
6  273 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

me.  Though  folk  say  he  has  a  league  wi'  Satan,  he  canna 
be  sic  an  incarnate  devil  as  no  to  take  some  pity  in  a  case 
like  mine;  and  folk  threep  he'll  whiles  do  good,  charit- 
able sort  o'  things.  I'll  keep  my  heart  doun  as  weel  as 
I  can,  and  stroke  him  wi'  the  hair;  and  if  the  warst  come 
to  the  warst,  it's  but  wringing  the  head  o'  him  about 
at  last.^ 

In  this  disposition  of  accommodation  he  approached 
the  hut  of  the  Solitary.  The  old  man  was  not  upon  his 
seat  of  audience,  nor  could  Hobbie  perceive  him  in  his 
garden  or  inclosures. 

'He's  gotten  into  his  very  keep,'  said  Hobbie,  'maybe 
to  be  out  o'  the  gate;  but  I'se  pu'  it  doun  about  his  lugs 
if  I  canna  win  at  him  otherwise.' 

Having  thus  communed  with  himself,  he  raised  his 
voice  and  invoked  Elshie  in  a  tone  as  supplicating  as  his 
conflicting  feelings  would  permit.  'Elshie,  my  gude 
friend!'  No  reply.  'Elshie,  canny  Father  Elshie!'  The 
Dwarf  remained  mute.  'Sorrow  be  in  the  crooked  car- 
cass of  thee!'  said  the  Borderer  between  his  teeth;  and 
then  again  attempting  a  soothing  tone,  '  Good  Father 
Elshie,  a  most  miserable  creature  desires  some  counsel 
of  your  wisdom.' 

'The  better!'  answered  the  shrill  and  discordant  voice 
of  the  Dwarf  through  a  very  small  window,  resembling 
an  arrow-slit,  which  he  had  constructed  near  the  door  of 
his  dwelling,  and  through  which  he  could  see  any  one 
who  approached  it,  without  the  possibility  of  their  look- 
ing in  upon  him. 

'The  better!'  said  Hobbie,  impatiently;  'what  is  the 
better,  Elshie?  Do  you  not  hear  me  tell  you  I  am  the 
most  miserable  wretch  living?' 

274 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


'And  do  you  not  hear  me  tell  you  it  is  so  much  the 
better?  and  did  I  not  tell  you  this  morning,  when  you 
thought  yourself  so  happy,  what  an  evening  was  coming 
upon  you?  ^ 

'That  ye  did  e'en/  replied  Hobbie,  'and  that  gars  me 
come  to  you  for  advice  now;  they  that  foresaw  the  trou- 
ble maun  ken  the  cure.' 

'I  know  no  cure  for  earthly  trouble,'  returned  the 
Dwarf;  'or,  if  I  did,  why  should  I  help  others,  when 
none  hath  aided  me?  Have  I  not  lost  wealth,  that  would 
have  bought  all  thy  barren  hills  a  hundred  times  over? 
rank,  to  which  thine  is  as  that  of  a  peasant?  society, 
where  there  was  an  interchange  of  all  that  was  amiable, 
of  all  that  was  intellectual?  Have  I  not  lost  all  this?  Am 
I  not  residing  here,  the  veriest  outcast  on  the  face  of 
Nature,  in  the  most  hideous  and  most  solitary  of  her 
retreats,  myself  more  hideous  than  all  that  is  around 
me?  And  why  should  other  worms  complain  to  me  when 
they  are  trodden  on,  since  I  am  myself  lying  crushed  and 
writhing  under  the  chariot- wheel?' 

'Ye  may  have  lost  all  this,'  answered  Hobbie,  in  the 
bitterness  of  emotion;  'land  and  friends,  goods  and  gear 
—  ye  may  hae  lost  them  a';  but  ye  ne'er  can  hae  sae  sair 
a  heart  as  mine,  for  ye  ne'er  lost  nae  Grace  Armstrong. 
And  now  my  last  hopes  are  gane,  and  I  shall  ne'er  see 
her  mair.' 

This  he  said  in  the  tone  of  deepest  emotion,  and  there 
followed  a  long  pause,  for  the  mention  of  his  bride's 
name  had  overcome  the  more  angry  and  irritable  feel- 
ings of  poor  Hobbie.  Ere  he  had  again  addressed  the 
Solitary,  the  bony  hand  and  long  fingers  of  the  latter, 
holding  a  large  leathern  bag,  was  thrust  forth  at  the 

27S 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


small  window,  and  as  it  unclutched  the  burden,  and  let 
it  drop  with  a  clang  upon  the  ground,  his  harsh  voice 
again  addressed  Elliot.  ^  There  —  there  lies  a  salve  for 
every  human  ill;  so,  at  least,  each  human  wretch  readily 
thinks.  Begone;  return  twice  as  wealthy  as  thou  wert 
before  yesterday,  and  torment  me  no  more  with  ques- 
tions, complaints,  or  thanks;  they  are  ahke  odious  to 
me.' 

^It  is  a'  gowd,  by  Heaven!'  said  Elliot,  having 
glanced  at  the  contents;  and  then  again  addressing  the 
Hermit  —  'Muckle  obliged  for  your  goodwill;  and  I  wad 
blythely  gie  you  a  bond  for  some  o'  the  siller,  or  a  wadset 
ower  the  lands  o'  Wideopen.  But  I  dinna  ken,  Elshie ;  to 
be  free  wi'  you,  I  dinna  like  to  use  siller  unless  I  kend  it 
was  decently  come  by;  and  maybe  it  might  turn  into 
sclate-stanes  and  cheat  some  poor  man.' 

'Ignorant  idiot!'  retorted  the  Dwarf;  ^the  trash  is  as 
genuine  poison  as  ever  was  dug  out  of  the  bowels  of  the 
earth.  Take  it,  use  it,  and  may  it  thrive  with  you  as  it 
hath  done  with  me!' 

'But  I  tell  you,'  said  Elliot,  'it  wasna  about  the  gear 
that  I  was  consulting  you:  it  was  a  braw  barn-yard, 
doubtless,  and  thirty  head  of  finer  cattle  there  werena  on 
this  side  of  the  Catrail;  but  let  the  gear  gang.  If  ye  could 
but  gie  me  speerings  o'  puir  Grace,  I  would  be  content  to 
be  your  slave  for  life,  in  ony  thing  that  didna  touch  my 
salvation.  O,  Elshie,  speak,  man,  speak!' 

'Well,  then,'  answered  the  Dwarf,  as  if  worn  out  by 
his  importunity,  '  since  thou  hast  not  enough  of  woes  of 
thine  own,  but  must  needs  seek  to  burden  thyself  with 
those  of  a  partner,  seek  her  whom  thou  hast  lost  in  the 
West.' 

276 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


'In  the  West  ?  That's  a  wide  word.' 

'It  is  the  last/  said  the  Dwarf,  'which  I  design  to 
utter';  and  he  drew  the  shutters  of  his  window,  leaving 
Hobbie  to  make  the  most  of  the  hint  he  had  given. 

'The  west!  the  west!'  thought  Elliot;  'the  country  is 
pretty  quiet  down  that  way,  unless  it  were  Jock  o'  the 
Todholes;  and  he's  ower  auld  now  for  the  like  o'  thae 
jobs.  West !  By  my  life,  it  must  be  Westburnflat.  — 
Elshie,  just  tell  me  one  word.  Am  I  right?  Is  it  West- 
burnflat? If  I  am  wrang,  say  sae.  I  wadna  like  to  wyte 
an  innocent  neighbour  wi'  violence.  No  answer?  It  must 
be  the  Red  Reiver.  I  didna  think  he  wad  hae  ventured 
on  me,  neither,  and  sae  mony  kin  as  there's  o'  us.  I  am 
thinking  he'll  hae  some  better  backing  than  his  Cumber- 
land friends.  Fareweel  to  you,  Elshie,  and  mony  thanks. 
I  downa  be  fashed  wi'  the  siller  e'en  now,  for  I  maun 
awa'  to  meet  my  friends  at  the  trysting-place.  Sae,  if  ye 
carena  to  open  the  window,  ye  can  fetch  it  in  after  I 'm 
awa'.' 

Still  there  was  no  reply. 

'He's  deaf  or  he's  daft,  or  he's  baith;  but  I  hae  nae 
time  to  stay  to  claver  wi'  him.' 

And  off  rode  Hobbie  Elliot  towards  the  place  of  ren- 
dezvous which  he  had  named  to  his  friends. 

Four  or  five  riders  were  already  gathered  at  the  Tryst- 
ing  Pool.  They  stood  in  close  consultation  together, 
while  their  horses  were  permitted  to  graze  among  the 
poplars  which  overhung  the  broad  still  pool.  A  more 
numerous  party  were  seen  coming  from  the  southward. 
It  proved  to  be  Earnscliff  and  his  party,  who  had  fol- 
lowed the  track  of  the  cattle  as  far  as  the  English  border, 
but  had  halted  on  the  information  that  a  considerable 


277 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

force  was  drawn  together  under  some  of  the  Jacobite 
gentlemen  in  that  district,  and  there  were  tidings  of 
insurrection  in  different  parts  of  Scotland.  This  took 
away  from  the  act  which  had  been  perpetrated  the  ap- 
pearance of  private  animosity  or  love  of  plunder;  and 
Earnscliff  was  now  disposed  to  regard  it  as  a  symptom 
of  civil  war.  The  young  gentleman  greeted  Hobbie  with 
the  most  sincere  sympathy,  and  informed  him  of  the 
news  he  had  received. 

'Then,  may  I  never  stir  frae  the  bit,'  said  Elliot,  'if 
auld  EUieslawis  not  at  the  bottom  o*  the  haill  villainy! 
Ye  see  he's  leagued  wi'  the  Cumberland  Catholics;  and 
that  agrees  weel  wi'  what  Elshie  hinted  about  Westburn- 
flat,  for  Ellieslaw  aye  protected  him,  and  he  will  want  to 
harry  and  disarm  the  country  about  his  ain  hand  before 
he  breaks  out.' 

Some  now  remembered  that  the  party  of  ruffians  had 
been  heard  to  say  they  were  acting  for  James  VIII,  and 
were  charged  to  disarm  all  rebels.  Others  had  heard 
Westburnflat  boast,  in  drinking  parties,  that  Ellieslaw 
would  soon  be  in  arms  for  the  Jacobite  cause,  and  that 
he  himself  was  to  hold  a  command  under  him,  and  that 
they  would  be  bad  neighbours  for  young  Earnscliflf,  and 
all  that  stood  out  for  the  established  government.  The 
result  was  a  strong  belief  that  Westburnflat  had  headed 
the  party  under  EUieslaw's  orders;  and  they  resolved 
to  proceed  instantly  to  the  house  of  the  former,  and,  if 
possible,  to  secure  his  person.  They  were  by  this  time 
joined  by  so  many  of  their  dispersed  friends  that  their 
number  amounted  to  upwards  of  twenty  horsemen, 
well  mounted,  and  tolerably,  though  variously,  armed. 

A  brook,  which  issued  from  a  narrow  glen  among  the 
278 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 

hills,  entered,  at  Westburnflat,  upon  the  open  marshy 
level,  which,  expanding  about  half  a  mile  in  every  direc- 
tion^ gives  name  to  the  spot.  In  this  place  the  character 
of  the  stream  becomes  changed,  and,  from  being  a  Uvely 
brisk-running  mountain-torrent,  it  stagnates,  like  a  blue 
swollen  snake,  in  dull  deep  windings  through  the  swampy 
level.  On  the  side  of  the  stream,  and  nearly  about  the 
centre  of  the  plain,  arose  the  tower  of  Westburnflat,  one 
of  the  few  remaining  strongholds  formerly  so  numer- 
ous upon  the  Borders.  The  ground  upon  which  it  stood 
was  gently  elevated  above  the  marsh  for  the  space  of 
about  a  hundred  yards,  affording  an  esplanade  of  dry 
turf,  which  extended  itself  in  the  immediate  neighbour- 
hood of  the  tower,  but  beyond  which  the  surface  pre- 
sented to  strangers  was  that  of  an  impassable  and  dan- 
gerous bog.  The  owner  of  the  tower  and  his  inmates 
alone  knew  the  winding  and  intricate  paths,  which,  lead- 
ing over  the  ground  that  was  comparatively  sound,  ad- 
mitted visitors  to  his  residence.  But  among  the  party 
which  were  assembled  under  Earnscliff 's  directions  there 
was  more  than  one  person  qualified  to  act  as  guide.  For 
although  the  owner's  character  and  habits  of  hfe  were 
generally  known,  yet  the  laxity  of  feeling  with  respect  to 
property  prevented  his  being  looked  on  with  the  abhor- 
rence with  which  he  must  have  been  regarded  in  a  more 
civilized  country.  He  was  considered,  among  his  more 
peaceable  neighbours,  pretty  much  as  a  gambler,  cock- 
fighter,  or  horse- jockey  would  be  regarded  at  the  present 
day;  a  person,  of  course,  whose  habits  were  to  be  con- 
demned, and  his  society,  in  general,  avoided,  yet  who 
could  not  be  considered  as  marked  with  the  indelible  in- 
famy attached  to  his  profession  where  laws  have  been 

279 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

habitually  observed.  And  their  indignation  was  awak- 
ened against  him  upon  this  occasion,  not  so  much  on 
account  of  the  general  nature  of  the  transaction,  which 
was  just  such  as  was  to  be  expected  from  this  ma- 
rauder, as  that  the  violence  had  been  perpetrated  upon 
a  neighbour  against  whom  he  had  no  cause  of  quarrel, 
against  a  friend  of  their  own,  above  all  against  one  of 
the  name  of  Elliot,  to  which  clan  most  of  them  belonged. 
It  was  not,  therefore,  wonderful,  that  there  should  be 
several  in  the  band  pretty  well  acquainted  with  the 
locality  of  his  habitation,  and  capable  of  giving  such 
directions  and  guidance  as  soon  placed  the  whole  party 
on  the  open  space  of  firm  ground  in  front  of  the  Tower 
of  Westburnflat. 


CHAPTER  IX 


So  spak  the  knicht.  The  geaunt  sed, 
Lead  forth  with  the  the  sely  maid, 

And  mak  me  quite  of  the  and  sche;  \ 
For  glaunsing  ee,  or  brow  so  brent, 
Or  cheek  with  rose  and  lilye  blent. 

Me  lists  not  ficht  with  the. 

Romance  of  the  Falcon, 

The  tower,  before  which  the  party  now  stood,  was  a 
small  square  building,  of  the  most  gloomy  aspect.  The 
walls  were  of  great  thickness,  and  the  windows,  or  slits 
which  served  the  purpose  of  windows,  seemed  rather 
calculated  to  afford  the  defenders  the  means  of  employ- 
ing missile  weapons  than  for  admitting  air  or  Hght  to  the 
apartments  within.  A  small  battlement  projected  over 
the  walls  on  every  side,  and  afforded  farther  advantage 
of  defence  by  its  niched  parapet,  within  which  arose  a 
steep  roof  flagged  with  grey  stones.  A  single  turret  at 
one  angle,  defended  by  a  door  studded  with  huge  iron 
nails,  rose  above  the  battlement,  and  gave  access  to  the 
roof  from  within,  by  the  spiral  staircase  which  it  in- 
closed. It  seemed  to  the  party  that  their  motions  were 
watched  by  some  one  concealed  within  this  turret;  and 
they  were  confirmed  in  their  beUef  when,  through  a  nar- 
row loophole,  a  female  hand  was  seen  to  wave  a  hand- 
kerchief, as  if  by  way  of  signal  to  them.  Hobbie  was 
almost  out  of  his  senses  with  joy  and  eagerness. 

*It  was  Grace's  hand  and  arm,'  he  said;  can  swear 
to  it  amang  a  thousand.  There  is  not  the  hke  of  it  on 
this  side  of  the  Lowdens.  We'll  have  her  out,  lads,  if  we 

281 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

should  carry  off  the  Tower  of  Westburnflat  stane  by 
stane/ 

Earnscliff,  though  he  doubted  the  possibility  of  re- 
cognizing a  fair  maiden's  hand  at  such  a  distance  from 
the  eye  of  the  lover,  would  say  nothing  to  damp  his 
friend's  animated  hopes,  and  it  was  resolved  to  summon 
the  garrison. 

The  shouts  of  the  party,  and  the  winding  of  one  or  two 
horns,  at  length  brought  to  a  loophole  which  flanked  the 
entrance  the  haggard  face  of  an  old  woman. 

*  That's  the  Reiver's  mother,'  said  one  of  the  Elliots; 
*  she's  ten  times  waur  than  himsell,  and  is  wyted  for 
muckle  of  the  ill  he  does  about  the  country/ 

^ Wha  are  ye  ?  What  d'  ye  want  here?'  were  the  que- 
ries of  the  respectable  progenitor. 

'We  are  seeking  William  Graeme  of  Westburnflat/ 
said  Earnscliff. 

'He's  no  at  hame,^  returned  the  old  dame. 

'When  did  he  leave  home?'  pursued  Earnscliff. 

'I  canna  tell,'  said  the  portress. 

*  When  will  he  return?'  said  Hobbie  Elliot. 

*I  dinna  ken  naething  about  it,'  replied  the  inexorable 
guardian  of  the  keep. 

'Is  there  anybody  within  the  tower  with  you?'  again 
demanded  Earnscliff. 

'Naebody  but  mysell  and  baudrons,'  said  the  old  wo- 
man. 

'Then  open  the  gate  and  admit  us,'  said  Earnscliff;  'I 
am  a  justice  of  peace,  and  in  search  of  the  evidence  of 
a  felony.' 

'Deil  be  in  their  fingers  that  draws  a  bolt  for  ye/  re- 
torted the  portress ; '  for  mine  shall  never  do  it.  Thinkna 

282 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


ye  shame  o'  yoursells,  to  come  here  siccan  a  band  o'  ye, 
wi'  your  swords  and  spears  and  steel-caps,  to  frighten 
a  lone  widow  woman?' 

^Our  information/  said  Earnscliff,  ^is  positive;  we 
are  seeking  goods  which  have  been  forcibly  carried  off,  to 
a  great  amount.' 

^And  a  young  woman  that's  been  cruelly  made  pris- 
oner, that's  worth  mair  than  a'  the  gear  twice  told,'  said 
Hobbie. 

^And  I  warn  you,'  continued  Earnscliff,  Hhat  your 
only  way  to  prove  your  son's  innocence  is  to  give  us 
quiet  admittance  to  search  the  house.' 

^  And  what  will  ye  do  if  I  carena  to  thraw  the  keys,  or 
draw  the  bolts,  or  open  the  grate  to  sic  a  clanjamfrie  ? ' 
said  the  old  dame,  scoffingly. 

^  Force  our  way  with  the  king's  keys,  and  break  the 
neck  of  every  living  soul  we  find  in  the  house,  if  ye 
dinna  gie  it  ower  forthwith!'  menaced  the  incensed 
Hobbie. 

^Threatened  folks  live  lang,'  said  the  hag,  in  the 
same  tone  of  irony;  ^there's  the  iron  grate,  try  your 
skeel  on't,  lads;  it  has  kept  out  as  gude  men  as  you  or 
now.' 

So  saying,  she  laughed,  and  withdrew  from  the  aper- 
ture through  which  she  had  held  the  parley. 

The  besiegers  now  opened  a  serious  consultation. 
The  immense  thickness  of  the  walls,  and  the  small  size 
of  the  windows,  might  for  a  time  have  even  resisted  can- 
non-shot. The  entrance  was  secured,  first,  by  a  strong 
grated  door,  composed  entirely  of  hammered  iron,  of 
such  ponderous  strength  as  seemed  calculated  to  resist 
any  force  that  could  be  brought  against  it.  ^Pinches  or 

283  • 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


forehammers  will  never  pick  upon't/  said  Hugh,  the 
blacksmith  of  Ringleburn;  ^ye  might  as  weel  batter  at  it 
wi'  pipe-staples.' 

Within  the  doorway,  and  at  the  distance  of  nine  feet, 
which  was  the  solid  thickness  of  the  wall,  there  was  a  sec- 
ond door  of  oak,  crossed,  both  breadth  and  lengthways, 
with  clenched  bars  of  iron,  and  studded  full  of  broad- 
headed  nails.  Besides  all  these  defences,  they  were  by 
no  means  confident  in  the  truth  of  the  old  dame's  asser- 
tion that  she  alone  composed  the  garrison.  The  more 
knowing  of  the  party  had  observed  hoof-marks  in  the 
track  by  which  they  approached  the  tower,  which 
seemed  to  indicate  that  several  persons  had  very  lately 
passed  in  that  direction. 

To  all  these  difficulties  was  added  their  want  of  means 
for  attacking  the  place.  There  was  no  hope  of  procuring 
ladders  long  enough  to  reach  the  battlements,  and  the 
windows,  besides  being  very  narrow,  were  secured  with 
iron  bars.  Scaling  was  therefore  out  of  the  question; 
mining  was  still  more  so,  for  want  of  tools  and  gunpow- 
der; neither  were  the  besiegers  provided  with  food, 
means  of  shelter,  or  other  conveniences,  which  might 
have  enabled  them  to  convert  the  siege  into  a  blockade; 
and  there  would,  at  any  rate,  have  been  a  risk  of  relief 
from  some  of  the  marauder's  comrades.  Hobbie  grinded 
and  gnashed  his  teeth,  as,  walking  round  the  fastness,  he 
could  devise  no  means  of  making  a  forcible  entry.  At 
length  he  suddenly  exclaimed,  ^  And  what  for  no  do  as 
our  fathers  did  lang  syne?  Put  hand  to  the  wark,  lads. 
Let  us  cut  up  bushes  and  briers,  pile  them  before  the 
door  and  set  fire  to  them,  and  smoke  that  auld  devil's 
dam  as  if  she  were  to  be  reested  for  bacon.' 

284 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


All  immediately  closed  with  this  proposal,  and  some 
went  to  work  with  swords  and  knives  to  cut  down  the 
alder  and  hawthorn  bushes  which  grew  by  the  side  of  the 
sluggish  stream,  many  of  which  were  sufficiently  de- 
cayed and  dried  for  their  purpose,  while  others  began  to 
collect  them  in  a  large  stack,  properly  disposed  for  burn- 
ing, as  close  to  the  iron  grate  as  they  could  be  piled.  Fire 
was  speedily  obtained  from  one  of  their  guns,  and  Hob- 
bie  was  already  advancing  to  the  pile  with  a  kindled 
brand,  when  the  surly  face  of  the  robber  and  the  muzzle 
of  a  musquetoon  were  partially  shown  at  a  shot-hole 
which  flanked  the  entrance.  ^Mony  thanks  to  ye,'  he 
said,  scofl&ngly,  ^for  collecting  sae  muckle  winter  eilding 
for  us;  but  if  ye  step  a  foot  nearer  it  wi'  that  lunt,  it's 
be  the  dearest  step  ye  ever  made  in  your  days.' 

^We'U  sune  see  that,'  said  Hobbie,  advancing  fear- 
lessly with  the  torch. 

The  marauder  snapped  his  piece  at  him,  which,  for- 
tunately for  our  honest  friend,  did  not  go  off;  while 
Earnscliff,  firing  at  the  same  moment  at  the  narrow 
aperture  and  slight  mark  afforded  by  the  robber's  face, 
grazed  the  side  of  his  head  with  a  bullet.  He  had  appar- 
ently calculated  upon  his  post  affording  him  more  secur- 
ity, for  he  no  sooner  felt  the  wound,  though  a  very  slight 
one,  than  he  requested  a  parley,  and  demanded  to  know 
what  they  meant  by  attacking  in  this  fashion  a  peace- 
able and  honest  man,  and  shedding  his  blood  in  that 
lawless  manner. 

^  We  want  your  prisoner,'  said  Earnscliff,  ^  to  be  dehv- 
ered  up  to  us  in  safety.' 

'And  what  concern  have  you  with  her?'  replied  the 
marauder. 


285 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

'That,'  retorted  Earnscliff,  'you,  who  are  detaining 
her  by  force  have  no  right  to  inquire.' 

'Aweel,  I  think  I  can  gie  a  guess/  said  the  robber. 
'  Weel,  sirs,  I  am  laith  to  enter  into  deadly  feud  with  you 
by  spilling  ony  of  your  bluid,  though  Earnscliff  hasna 
stopped  to  shed  mine,  and  he  can  hit  a  mark  to  a  groat's 
breadth;  so,  as  to  prevent  mair  skaith,  I  am  willing  to 
deliver  up  the  prisoner,  since  nae  less  will  please  you.' 

'And  Hobble's  gear?'  cried  Simon  of  Hackburn. 
'D'ye  think  you're  to  be  free  to  plunder  the  faulds  and 
byres  of  a  gentle  Elliot  as  if  they  were  an  auld  wife's 
hen's  cavey ? ' 

'As  I  live  by  bread,'  replied  Willie  of  Westburnflat  — 
'as  I  live  by  bread,  I  have  not  a  single  cloot  o'  them! 
They're  a'  ower  the  marsh  lang  syne;  there's  no  a  horn 
o'  them  about  the  tower.  But  I  '11  see  what  o'  them  can 
be  gotten  back,  and  I  '11  take  this  day  twa  days  to  meet 
Hobbie  at  the  Castleton  wi'  twa  friends  on  ilka  side,  and 
see  to  make  an  agreement  about  a'  the  wrang  he  can 
wyte  me  wi.' 

'Ay,  ay,'  said  Elliot,  'that  will  do  weel  eneugh.'  And 
then  aside  to  his  kinsman,  'Murrain  on  the  gear!  Lord- 
sake,  man!  say  nought  about  them.  Let  us  but  get  puir 
Grace  out  o'  that  auld  hellicat's  clutches.' 

'Will  ye  gie  me  your  word,  Earnscliff,'  said  the  ma- 
rauder, who  still  Hngered  at  the  shot-hole,  'your  faith 
and  troth,  with  hand  and  glove,  that  I  am  free  to  come 
and  free  to  gae,  with  five  minutes  to  open  the  grate  and 
five  minutes  to  steek  it  and  to  draw  the  bolts?  less  winna 
do,  for  they  want  creishing  sairly.  Will  ye  do  this? ' 

'You  shall  have  full  time,'  said  Earnscliff;  'I  plight 
my  faith  and  troth,  my  hand  and  my  glove.' 

286 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


'Wait  there  a  moment,  then/  said  Westbumflat;  'or 
hear  ye,  I  wad  rather  ye  wad  fa'  back  a  pistol-shot  from 
the  door.  It's  no  that  I  mistrust  your  word,  Earnscliff; 
but  it's  best  to  be  sure.' 

*0,  friend,'  thought  Hobbie  to  himself,  as  he  drew 
back,  ^an  I  had  you  but  on  Turner's  Holm,^  and  nae- 
body  by  but  twa  honest  lads  to  see  fair  play,  I  wad 
make  ye  wish  ye  had  broken  your  leg  ere  ye  had  touched 
beast  or  body  that  belanged  to  me!' 

'He  has  a  white  feather  in  his  wing,  this  same  West- 
bumflat, after  a', '  said  Simon  of  Hackburn,  somewhat 
scandalized  by  his  ready  surrender.  ^He'U  ne'er  fill  his 
father's  boots.' 

In  the  meanwhile,  the  inner  door  of  the  tower  was 
opened,  and  the  mother  of  the  freebooter  appeared  in 
the  space  betwixt  that  and  the  outer  grate.  WiUie  him- 
self was  next  seen,  leading  forth  a  female,  and  the  old 
woman,  carefully  bolting  the  grate  behind  them,  re- 
mained on  the  post  as  a  sort  of  sentinel. 

'Ony  ane  or  twa  o'  ye  come  forward,'  said  the  outlaw, 
'and  take  her  frae  my  hand  haill  and  sound.' 

Hobbie  advanced  eagerly  to  meet  his  betrothed  bride. 
EarnscUff  followed  more  slowly,  to  guard  against 
treachery.  Suddenly  Hobbie  slackened  his  pace  in  the 
deepest  mortification,  while  that  of  Earnscliff  was  hast- 
ened by  impatient  surprise.  It  was  not  Grace  Armstrong 
but  Miss  Isabella  Vere  whose  liberation  had  been  ef- 
fected by  their  appearance  before  the  tower. 

'Where  is  Grace?  where  is  Grace  Armstrong?'  ex- 
claimed Hobbie,  in  the  extremity  of  wrath  and  indigna- 
tion. 

*  See  Note  3. 


287 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

'Not  in  my  hands/  answered  Westburnflat;  'ye  may 
search  the  tower  if  ye  misdoubt  me.' 

^  You  false  villain,  you  shall  account  for  her,  or  die  on 
the  spot/  said  Elliot,  presenting  his  gun. 

But  his  companions,  who  now  came  up,  instantly  dis- 
armed him  of  his  weapon,  exclaiming  all  at  once,  ^Hand 
and  glove!  faith  and  troth!  Haud  a  care,  Hobbie;  we 
maun  keep  our  faith  wi'  Westburnflat,  were  he  the 
greatest  rogue  ever  rode.' 

Thus  protected,  the  outlaw  recovered  his  audacity, 
which  had  been  somewhat  daunted  by  the  menacing 
gesture  of  EHiot. 

'I  have  kept  my  word,  sirs,'  he  said,  ^and  I  look  to 
have  nae  wrang  amang  ye.  If  this  is  no  the  prisoner  ye 
sought,'  he  said,  addressing  Earnscliff,  'ye '11  render  her 
back  to  me  again.  I  am  answerable  for  her  to  those  that 
aught  her.' 

'For  God's  sake,  Mr.  Earnscliff,  protect  me!'  said 
Miss  Vere,  clinging  to  her  deliverer;  'do  not  you  abandon 
one  whom  the  whole  world  seems  to  have  abandoned.' 

'Fear  nothing,'  whispered  Earnscliff,  'I  will  protect 
you  with  my  hfe.'  Then  turning  to  Westburnflat,  'Vil- 
lain!' he  said,  'how  dared  you  to  insult  this  lady?' 

'For  that  matter,  Earnscliff,'  answered  the  freebooter, 
'I  can  answer  to  them  that  has  better  right  to  ask  me 
than  you  have;  but  if  you  come  with  an  armed  force  and 
take  her  awa'  from  them  that  her  friends  lodged  her  wi', 
how  will  you  answer  that  ?  But  it 's  your  ain  affair.  Nae 
single  man  can  keep  a  tower  against  twenty.  A'  the  men 
o'  the  Mearns  downa  do  mair  than  they  dow.' 

'He  lies  most  falsely,'  said  Isabella;  'he  carried  me 
off  by  violence  from  my  father.' 

288 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


*  Maybe  he  only  wanted  ye  to  think  sae,  hinny/  re- 
plied the  robber;  ^but  it's  nae  business  o'  mine,  let  it  be 
as  it  may.  So  ye  winna  resign  her  back  to  me?' 

*Back  to  you,  fellow?  Surely  no,'  answered  Earns- 
cliff;  will  protect  Miss  Vere,  and  escort  her  safely 
wherever  she  is  pleased  to  be  conveyed.' 

'Ay,  ay,  maybe  you  and  her  hae  settled  that  already/ 
said  Willie  of  Westburnflat. 

'And  Grace?'  interrupted  Hobbie,  shaking  himself 
loose  from  the  friends  who  had  been  preaching  to  him 
the  sanctity  of  the  safe-conduct,  upon  the  faith  of  which 
the  freebooter  had  ventured  from  his  tower,  '  where 's 
Grace?'  and  he  rushed  on  the  marauder,  sword  in  hand. 

Westburnflat,  thus  pressed,  after  calling  out,'  Godsake, 
Hobbie,  hear  me  a  gliff ! '  fairly  turned  his  back  and  fled. 
His  mother  stood  ready  to  open  and  shut  the  grate;  but 
Hobbie  struck  at  the  freebooter  as  he  entered  with  so 
much  force  that  the  sword  made  a  considerable  cleft  in 
the  lintel  of  the  vaulted  door,  which  is  still  shown  as  a 
memorial  of  the  superior  strength  of  those  who  Uved  in 
the  days  of  yore.  Ere  Hobbie  could  repeat  the  blow,  the 
door  was  shut  and  secured,  and  he  was  compelled  to  re- 
treat to  his  companions,  who  were  now  preparing  to 
break  up  the  siege  of  Westburnflat.  They  insisted  upon 
his  accompanying  them  in  their  return. 

'Ye  hae  broken  truce  already,'  said  old  Dick  of  the 
Dingle;  'an  we  takena  the  better  care,  ye '11  play  mair 
gowk's  tricks,  and  make  yoursell  the  laughing-stock  of 
the  haill  country,  besides  having  your  friends  charged 
with  slaughter  under  trust.  Bide  till  the  meeting  at  Cas- 
tleton,  as  ye  hae  greed;  and  if  he  disna  make  ye  amends, 
then  we  '11  hae  it  out  o'  his  heart's  blood.  But  let  us  gang 
6  289 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

reasonably  to  wark  and  keep  our  tryste,  and  I'se  war- 
rant we  get  back  Grace  and  the  kye  an'  a'.' 

This  cold-blooded  reasoning  went  ill  down  with  the 
unfortunate  lover;  but,  as  he  could  only  obtain  the  assist- 
ance of  his  neighbours  and  kinsmen  on  their  own  terms, 
he  was  compelled  to  acquiesce  in  their  notions  of  good 
faith  and  regular  procedure. 

EarnscUff  now  requested  the  assistance  of  a  few  of  the 
party  to  convey  Miss  Vere  to  her  father's  castle  of  El- 
lieslaw,  to  which  she  was  peremptory  in  desiring  to  be 
conducted.  This  was  readily  granted,  and  five  or  six 
young  men  agreed  to  attend  him  as  an  escort.  Hobbie 
was  not  of  the  number.  Almost  heart-broken  by  the 
events  of  the  day  and  his  final  disappointment,  he  re- 
turned moodily  home  to  take  such  measures  as  he  could 
for  the  sustenance  and  protection  of  his  family,  and  to 
arrange  with  his  neighbours  the  further  steps  which 
should  be  adopted  for  the  recovery  of  Grace  Armstrong. 
The  rest  of  the  party  dispersed  in  different  directions,  as 
soon  as  they  had  crossed  the  morass.  The  outlaw  and 
his  mother  watched  them  from  the  tower  until  they  en- 
tirely disappeared. 


CHAPTER  X 


I  left  my  ladye's  bower  last  night  — 

It  was  clad  in  wreaths  of  snaw,  — 
I  '11  seek  it  when  the  sun  is  bright, 

And  sweet  the  roses  blaw. 

Old  Ballad. 

Incensed  at  what  he  deemed  the  coldness  of  his  friends 
in  a  cause  which  interested  him  so  nearly,  Hobbie  had 
shaken  himself  free  of  their  company,  and  was  now  on 
his  soKtary  road  homeward.  'The  fiend  founder  thee!' 
said  he,  as  he  spurred  impatiently  his  over-fatigued  and 
stumbling  horse;  'thou  art  Hke  a'  the  rest  o'  them.  Hae  I 
not  bred  thee  and  fed  thee  and  dressed  thee  wi'  mine  ain 
hand,  and  wouldst  thou  snapper  now  and  break  my  neck 
at  my  utmost  need?  But  thou'rt  e'en  like  the  lave:  the 
farthest  off  o'  them  a'  is  my  cousin  ten  times  removed, 
and  day  or  night  I  wad  hae  served  them  wi'  my  best 
blood;  and  now  I  think  they  shov/  mair  regard  to  the 
common  thief  of  Westburnflat  than  to  their  ain  kinsman. 
But  I  should  see  the  Hghts  now  in  Heughfoot.  Wae 's 
me ! '  he  continued,  recollecting  himself,  '  there  will  nei- 
ther coal  nor  candle-light  shine  in  the  Heughfoot  ony 
mail!  An  it  werena  for  my  mother  and  sisters  and  poor 
Grace,  I  could  find  in  my  heart  to  put  spurs  to  the  beast 
and  loup  ower  the  scaur  into  the  water  to  make  an  end 
o't  a'.'  In  this  disconsolate  mood  he  turned  his  horse's 
bridle  towards  the  cottage  in  which  his  family  had  found 
refuge. 

As  he  approached  the  door  he  heard  whispering  and 
291 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

tittering  amongst  his  sisters.  'The  deevil's  in  the  wo- 
men/ said  poor  Hobbie;  Hhey  would  nicker  and  laugh 
and  giggle  if  their  best  friend  was  lying  a  corp;  and  yet 
I  am  glad  they  can  keep  up  their  hearts  sae  weel,  poor 
silly  things;  but  the  dirdum  fa's  on  me,  to  be  sure,  and 
no  on  them.' 

While  he  thus  meditated,  he  was  engaged  in  fastening 
up  his  horse  in  a  shed.  'Thou  maun  do  without  horse- 
sheet  and  surcingle  now,  lad,'  he  said,  addressing  the 
animal;  'you  and  me  hae  had  a  downcome  alike;  we  had 
better  hae  fa'en  in  the  deepest  pool  o'  Tarras.' 

He  was  interrupted  by  the  youngest  of  his  sisters,  who 
came  running  out,  and,  speaking  in  a  constrained  voice, 
as  if  to  stifle  some  emotion,  called  out  to  him,  'What  are 
ye  doing  there,  Hobbie,  fiddling  about  the  naig,  and 
there's  ane  frae  Cumberland  been  waiting  here  for  ye 
this  hour  and  mair?  Haste  ye  in,  man;  I'll  take  o£E  the 
saddle.' 

'Ane  frae  Cumberland!'  exclaimed  Elliot;  and,  put- 
ting the  bridle  of  his  horse  into  the  hand  of  his  sister,  he 
rushed  into  the  cottage.  'Where  is  he?  where  is  he?'  he 
exclaimed,  glancing  eagerly  around,  and  seeing  only  fe- 
males. 'Did  he  bring  news  of  Grace?' 

'He  dough tna  bide  an  instant  langer,'  said  the  elder 
sister,  still  with  a  suppressed  laugh. 

'Hout  fie,  bairns!'  said  the  old  lady,  with  something 
of  a  good-humoured  reproof,  'ye  shouldna  vex  your 
billie  Hobbie  that  way.  Look  round,  my  bairn,  and 
see  if  there  isna  ane  here  mair  than  ye  left  this  morn- 
ing.' 

Hobbie  looked  eagerly  round.  'There's  you  and  the 
three  titties.' 


292 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


'There's  four  of  us  now,  Hobbie,  lad/  said  the  young- 
est, who  at  this  moment  entered. 

In  an  instant  Hobbie  had  in  his  arms  Grace  Arm- 
strong, who,  with  one  of  his  sisters'  plaids  around  her, 
had  passed  unnoticed  at  his  first  entrance.  '  How  dared 
you  do  this?'  said  Hobbie. 

'It  wasna  my  fault,'  said  Grace,  endeavouring  to  cover 
her  face  with  her  hands  to  hide  at  once  her  blushes  and 
escape  the  storm  of  hearty  kisses  with  which  her  bride- 
groom punished  her  simple  stratagem  —  ^  it  wasna  my 
fault,  Hobbie;  ye  should  kiss  Jeanie  and  the  rest  o'  them, 
for  they  hae  the  wyte  o't.' 

'And  so  I  will,'  said  Hobbie,  and  embraced  and  kissed 
his  sisters  and  grandmother  a  hundred  times,  while  the 
whole  party  half-laughed,  half-cried,  in  the  extremity  of 
their  joy.  'I  am  the  happiest  man,'  said  Hobbie,  throw- 
ing himself  down  on  a  seat,  almost  exhausted  —  'I  am 
the  happiest  man  in  the  world! ' 

'Then,  0  my  dear  bairn,'  said  the  good  old  dame,  who 
lost  no  opportunity  of  teaching  her  lesson  of  religion  at 
those  moments  when  the  heart  was  best  open  to  receive 
it  — '  then,  O  my  son,  give  praise  to  Him  that  brings 
smiles  out  o'  tears  and  joy  out  o'  grief,  as  He  brought 
light  out  o'  darkness  and  the  world  out  o'  naething.  Was 
it  not  my  word,  that  if  ye  could  say  "His  will  be  done,'' 
ye  might  hae  cause  to  say  "His  name  be  praised"?' 

'It  was  —  it  was  your  word,  grannie;  and  I  do  praise 
Him  for  his  mercy,  and  for  leaving  me  a  good  parent 
when  my  ain  were  gane,'  said  honest  Hobbie,  taking  her 
hand,  'that  puts  me  in  mind  to  think  of  Him  baith  in 
happiness  and  distress.' 

There  was  a  solemn  pause  of  one  or  two  minutes, 

293 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

employed  in  the  exercise  of  mental  devotion,  which 
expressed,  in  purity  and  sincerity,  the  gratitude  of  the 
affectionate  family  to  that  Providence  who  had  unex- 
pectedly restored  to  their  embraces  the  friend  whom 
they  had  lost. 

Hobbie's  first  inquiries  were  concerning  the  adven- 
tures which  Grace  had  undergone.  They  were  told  at 
length,  but  amounted  in  substance  to  this :  That  she  was 
awaked  by  the  noise  which  the  ruffians  made  in  break- 
ing into  the  house,  and  by  the  resistance  made  by  one  or 
two  of  the  servants,  which  was  soon  overpowered;  that, 
dressing  herself  hastily,  she  ran  downstairs,  and  having 
seen,  in  the  scuffle,  Westburnflat's  vizard  drop  off,  im- 
prudently named  him  by  his  name  and  besought  him  for 
mercy;  that  the  ruffian  instantly  stopped  her  mouth, 
dragged  her  from  the  house,  and  placed  her  on  horse- 
back behind  one  of  his  associates. 

^I'U  break  the  accursed  neck  of  him,^  said  Hobbie,  ^if 
there  werena  another  Graeme  in  the  land  but  himsell!* 

She  proceeded  to  say  that  she  was  carried  southward 
along  with  the  party,  and  the  spoil  which  they  drove 
before  them,  until  they  had  crossed  the  Border.  Sud- 
denly a  person,  known  to  her  as  a  kinsman  of  Westburn- 
flat,  came  riding  very  fast  after  the  marauders,  and  told 
their  leader  that  his  cousin  had  learnt  from  a  sure  hand 
that  no  luck  would  come  of  it  unless  the  lass  was  restored 
to  her  friends.  After  some  discussion  the  chief  of  the 
party  seemed  to  acquiesce.  Grace  was  placed  behind  her 
new  guardian,  who  pursued  in  silence,  and  with  great 
speed,  the  least-frequented  path  to  the  Heughfoot,  and 
ere  evening  closed  set  down  the  fatigued  and  terrified 
damsel  within  a  quarter  of  a  mile  of  the  dwelling  of  her 

294 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


friends.  Many  and  sincere  were  the  congratulations 
which  passed  on  all  sides. 

As  these  emotions  subsided,  less  pleasing  considera- 
tions began  to  intrude  themselves. 

*This  is  a  miserable  place  for  ye  aV  said  Hobbie,  look- 
ing around  him;  'Icansleep  weel  eneughmysell  outbye 
beside  the  naig,  as  I  hae  done  mony  a  lang  night  on  the 
hills;  but  how  ye  are  to  put  yoursells  up,  I  canna  see! 
And  what's  waur,  I  canna  mend  it;  and  what's  waur 
than  a\  the  morn  may  come,  and  the  day  after  that, 
without  your  being  a  bit  better  off.' 

^It  was  a  cowardly  cruel  thing,'  said  one  of  the  sisters, 
looking  round,  'to  harry  a  puir  family  to  the  bare  wa's 
this  gate.' 

'And  leave  us  neither  stirk  nor  stot,'  said  the  young- 
est brother,  who  now  entered,  'nor  sheep  nor  lamb,  nor 
aught  that  eats  grass  and  corn. ' 

'If  they  had  ony  quarrel  wi'  us,'  said  Harry,  the  sec- 
ond brother,  'were  we  na  ready  to  have  fought  it  out? 
And  that  we  should  have  been  a'  frae  hame  too,  ane 
and  a'  upon  the  hill.  Od,  an  we  had  been  at  hame,  Will 
Graeme's  stamach  shouldna  hae  wanted  its  morning; 
but  it's  biding  him,  is  it  na,  Hobbie?' 

'Our  neighbours  hae  taen  a  day  at  the  Castleton  to 
gree  wi'  him  at  the  sight  o'  men,'  said  Hobbie,  mourn- 
fully; 'they  behoved  to  have  it  a'  their  ain  gate,  or  there 
was  nae  help  to  be  got  at  their  hands.' 

'  To  gree  wi'  him ! '  exclaimed  both  his  brothers  at  once, 
'after  siccan  an  act  of  stouthrife  as  hasna  been  heard  o' 
in  the  country  since  the  auld  riding  days ! ' 

'Very  true,  billies,  and  my  blood  was  e'en  boiling  at  it; 
— but  the  sight  of  Grace  Armstrong  has  settled  it  brawly/ 

295 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

'But  the  stocking,  Hobbie?'  said  John  Elliot;  'we're 
utterly  ruined.  Harry  and  I  hae  been  to  gather  what 
was  on  the  outbye  land,  and  there 's  scarce  a  cloot  left.  I 
kenna  how  we're  to  carry  on.  We  maun  a'  gang  to  the 
wars,  I  think.  Westburnflat  hasna  the  means,  e  'en  if  he 
had  the  will,  to  make  up  our  loss;  there's  nae  mends  to 
be  got  out  o'  him,  but  what  ye  take  out  o'  his  banes.  He 
hasna  a  four-footed  creature  but  the  vicious  blood  thing 
he  rides  on,  and  that's  sair  trash'd  wi'  his  night  wark. 
We  are  ruined  stoop  and  roop.' 

Hobbie  cast  a  mournful  glance  on  Grace  Armstrong, 
who  returned  it  with  a  downcast  look  and  a  gentle  sigh. 

^Dinna  be  cast  down,  bairns,'  said  the  grandmother, 
'we  hae  gude  friends  that  winna  forsake  us  in  adversity. 
There's  Sir  Thomas  Kittleloof  is  my  third  cousin  by  the 
mother's  side,  and  he  has  come  by  a  hantle  siller,  and 
been  made  a  Knight-baronet  into  the  bargain,  for  being 
ane  o'  the  commissioners  at  the  Union.' 

'He  wadna  gie  a  bodle  to  save  us  frae  famishing,'  said 
Hobbie;  'and,  if  he  did,  the  bread  that  I  bought  wi't 
would  stick  in  my  throat  when  I  thought  it  was  part  of 
the  price  of  puir  auld  Scotland's  crown  and  independ- 
ence.' 

'There's  the  Laird  o'  Dunder,  ane  o'  the  auldest  fami- 
lies in  Tiviotdale.' 

'He's  in  the  tolbooth,  mother  — he's  in  the  Heart  of 
Mid  Lowden  for  a  thousand  merk  he  borrowed  from 
Saunders  Wyliecoat,  the  writer.' 

'Poor  man!'  exclaimed  Mrs.  Elliot,  'can  we  no  send 
him  something,  Hobbie?' 

'Ye  forget,  grannie  —  ye  forget  we  want  help  our- 
sells,'  said  Hobbie,  somewhat  peevishly. 

296 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


*  Troth  did  I,  hinny/  replied  the  good-natured  lady, 
^just  at  the  instant;  it's  sae  natural  to  think  on  ane's 
bluid  relations  before  themsells.  But  there's  young 
Earnscliff.' 

^He  has  ower  little  o'  his  ain;  and  siccan  a  name  to 
keep  up,  it  wad  be  a  shame,'  said  Hobbie,  Ho  burden 
him  wi'  our  distress.  And  I'll  tell  ye,  grannie,  it's  need- 
less to  sit  rhyming  ower  the  style  of  a'  your  kith,  kin,  and 
allies,  as  if  there  was  a  charm  in  their  braw  names  to  do 
us  good.  The  grandees  hae  forgotten  us,  and  those  of  our 
ain  degree  hae  just  little  eneugh  to  gang  on  wi'  them- 
sells; ne'er  a  friend  hae  we  that  can  or  will  help  us  to 
stock  the  farm  again.' 

^Then,  Hobbie,  we  maun  trust  in  Him  that  can  raise 
up  friends  and  fortune  out  o'  the  bare  moor,  as  they  say.' 

Hobbie  sprung  upon  his  feet.  'Ye  are  right,  grannie!' 
he  exclaimed  —  'ye  are  right.  I  do  ken  a  friend  on  the 
bare  moor  that  baith  can  and  will  help  us.  The  turns  o' 
this  day  hae  dung  my  head  clean  hirdie-girdie.  I  left  as 
muckle  gowd  lying  on  Mucklestane  Moor  this  morning 
as  would  plenish  the  house  and  stock  the  Heughfoot 
twice  ower,  and  I  am  certain  sure  Elshie  wadna  grudge 
us  the  use  of  it.' 

*  Elshie!'  said  his  grandmother  in  astonishment;  'what 
Elshie  do  you  mean?' 

'What  Elshie  should  I  mean,  but  Canny  Elshie,  the 
Wight  o'  Mucklestane?'  replied  Hobbie. 

'  God  forfend,  my  bairn,  you  should  gang  to  fetch  wa- 
ter out  o'  broken  cisterns,  or  seek  for  relief  frae  them  that 
deal  wi'  the  Evil  One !  There  was  never  luck  in  their  gifts 
nor  grace  in  their  paths.  And  the  haill  country  kens  that 
body  Elshie 's  an  unco  man.  O,  if  there  was  the  law,  and 

297 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


the  douce  quiet  administration  of  justice  that  makes 
a  kingdom  flourish  in  righteousness,  the  like  o'  them 
suldna  be  suffered  to  live!  The  wizard  and  the  witch 
are  the  abomination  and  the  evil  thing  in  the  land.' 

*  Troth,  mother/  answered  Hobbie,  ^ye  may  say  what 
ye  like,  but  I  am  in  the  mind  that  witches  and  warlocks 
ha  vena  half  the  power  they  had  lang  syne;  at  least,  sure 
am  I  that  ae  ill-deviser,  Hke  auld  Ellieslaw,  or  ae  ill-doer, 
like  that  d — d  villain  Westburnflat,  is  a  greater  plague 
and  abomination  in  a  countryside  than  a  haill  curnie  o' 
the  warst  witches  that  ever  capered  on  a  broomstick  or 
played  cantrips  on  Eastern's  E  'en.  It  wad  hae  been  lang 
or  Elshie  had  burnt  down  my  house  and  barns,  and  I  am 
determined  to  try  if  he  will  do  aught  to  build  them  up 
again.  He 's  weel  kend  a  skilfu'  man  ower  a'  the  country, 
as  far  as  Brough-under-Stainmore.' 

^Bide  a  wee,  my  bairn;  mind  his  benefits  ha  vena 
thriven  wi'  a'  body.  Jock  Howden  died  o'  the  very 
same  disorder  Elshie  pretended  to  cure  him  of,  about 
the  fa'  o'  the  leaf ;  and  though  he  helped  Lambside's 
cow  weel  out  o'  the  moor-ill,  yet  the  louping-ill 's  been 
sairer  amang  his  sheep  than  ony  season  before.  And 
then  I  have  heard  he  uses  sic  words  abusing  human 
nature  that's  like  a  fleeing  in  the  face  of  Providence; 
and  ye  mind  ye  said  yoursell,  the  first  time  ye  ever 
saw  him,  that  he  was  mair  like  a  bogle  than  a  Hving 
thing.' 

*Hout,  mother,'  said  Hobbie,  ^  Elshie 's  no  that  bad  a 
chield;  he's  a  grewsome  spectacle  for  a  crooked  disciple, 
to  be  sure,  and  a  rough  talker,  but  his  bark  is  waur  than 
his  bite.  Sae,  if  I  had  anes  something  to  eat,  for  I  havena 
had  a  morsel  ower  my  throat  this  day,  I  wad  streek  my- 

298 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


sell  down  for  twa  or  three  hours  aside  the  beast,  and  be 
on  and  awa'  to  Mucklestane  wi'  the  first  skreigh  o' 
morning.' 

*  And  what  for  no  the  night,  Hobbie,'  said  Harry,  ^and 
I  will  ride  wi'  ye?' 

^My  naig  is  tired,'  said  Hobbie. 

*Ye  may  take  mine,  then,'  said  John. 

*But  I  am  a  wee  thing  wearied  myselL* 

'You  wearied?'  said  Harry;  ^ shame  on  ye!  I  have 
kend  ye  keep  the  saddle  four-and-twenty  hours  the- 
gither,  and  ne'er  sic  a  word  as  weariness  in  your 
wame.' 

^The  night's  very  dark,'  said  Hobbie,  rising  and 
looking  through  the  casement  of  the  cottage;  ^and,  to 
speak  truth  and  shame  the  deil,  though  Elshie's  a  real 
honest  fallow,  yet  somegate  I  would  rather  take  day- 
light wi'  me  when  I  gang  to  visit  him.' 

This  frank  avowal  put  a  stop  to  further  argument; 
and  Hobbie,  having  thus  compromised  matters  between 
the  rashness  of  his  brother's  counsel  and  the  timid 
cautions  which  he  received  from  his  grandmother,  re- 
freshed himself  with  such  food  as  the  cottage  afforded; 
and,  after  a  cordial  salutation  all  round,  retired  to  the 
shed  and  stretched  himself  beside  his  trusty  palfrey. 
His  brothers  shared  between  them  some  trusses  of  clean 
straw,  disposed  in  the  stall  usually  occupied  by  old 
Annaple's  cow;  and  the  females  arranged  themselves 
for  repose  as  well  as  the  accommodations  of  the  cottage 
would  permit. 

With  the  first  dawn  of  morning  Hobbie  arose;  and, 
having  rubbed  down  and  saddled  his  horse,  he  set  forth 
to  Mucklestane  Moor.  He  avoided  the  company  of 

299 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


either  of  his  brothers,  from  an  idea  that  the  Dwarf  was 
most  propitious  to  those  who  visited  him  alone. 

^The  creature/  said  he  to  himself,  as  he  went  along, 
*  is  no  neighbourly;  ae  body  at  a  time  is  fully  mair  than 
he  weel  can  abide.  I  wonder  if  he's  looked  out  o'  the 
crib  o'  him  to  gather  up  the  bag  o'  siller.  If  he  hasna 
done  that,  it  will  hae  been  a  braw  windfa'  for  somebody, 
and  I'll  be  finely  flung.  Come,  Tarras,'  said  he  to  his 
horse,  striking  him  at  the  same  time  with  his  spur,  'make 
mair  fit,  man;  we  maun  be  first  on  the  field  if  we  can.' 

He  was  now  on  the  heath,  which  began  to  be  illumin- 
ated by  the  beams  of  the  rising  sun;  the  gentle  declivity 
which  he  was  descending  presented  him  a  distinct, 
though  distant,  view  of  the  Dwarf's  dwelling.  The  door 
opened,  and  Hobbie  witnessed  with  his  own  eyes  that 
phenomenon  which  he  had  frequently  heard  mentioned. 
Two  human  figures  (if  that  of  the  Dwarf  could  be  termed 
such)  issued  from  the  solitary  abode  of  the  Recluse,  and 
stood  as  if  in  converse  together  in  the  open  air.  The 
taller  form  then  stooped,  as  if  taking  something  up 
which  lay  beside  the  door  of  the  hut,  then  both  moved 
forward  a  little  way,  and  again  halted,  as  in  deep  con- 
ference. All  Hobble's  superstitious  terrors  revived  on 
witnessing  this  spectacle.  That  the  Dwarf  would  open 
his  dwelling  to  a  mortal  guest  was  as  improbable  as 
that  any  one  would  choose  voluntarily  to  be  his  noc- 
turnal visitor;  and,  under  full  conviction  that  he  beheld 
a  wizard  holding  intercourse  with  his  familiar  spirit, 
Hobbie  pulled  in  at  once  his  breath  and  his  bridle,  re- 
solved not  to  incur  the  indignation  of  either  by  a  hasty 
intrusion  on  their  conference.  They  were  probably 
aware  of  his  approach,  for  he  had  not  halted  for  a 

300 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


moment  before  the  Dwarf  returned  to  his  cottage;  and 
the  taller  figure  who  had  accompanied  him  glided  round 
the  inclosure  of  the  garden,  and  seemed  to  disappear 
from  the  eyes  of  the  admiring  Hobbie. 

*Saw  ever  mortal  the  like  o'  that!'  said  Elliot;  *but 
my  case  is  desperate,  sae,  if  he  were  Beelzebub  himsell, 
I  'se  venture  down  the  brae  on  him.' 

Yet,  notwithstanding  his  assumed  courage,  he  slack- 
ened his  pace  when,  nearly  upon  the  very  spot  where 
he  had  last  seen  the  tall  figure,  he  discerned,  as  if  lurk- 
ing among  the  long  heather,  a  small  black  rough-look- 
ing object,  Hke  a  terrier  dog. 

'He  has  nae  dog  that  ever  I  heard  of,'  said  Hobbie, 
^but  mony  a  deil  about  his  hand.  Lord  forgie  me  for 
saying  sic  a  word!  It  keeps  its  grund,  be  what  it  like. 
I'm  judging  it's  a  badger;  but  whae  kens  what  shapes 
thae  bogles  will  take  to  fright  a  body?  it  will  maybe 
start  up  like  a  lion  or  a  crocodile  when  I  come  nearer. 
I  'se  e'en  drive  a  stane  at  it,  for  if  it  change  its  shape 
when  I'm  ower  near,  Tarras  will  never  stand  it;  and  it 
will  be  ower  muckle  to  hae  him  and  the  deil  to  fight 
wi'  baith  at  ance.' 

He  therefore  cautiously  threw  a  stone  at  the  object, 
which  continued  motionless.  'It's  nae  Hving  thing, 
after  a','  said  Hobbie,  approaching,  'but  the  very  bag 
o'  siller  he  flung  out  o'  the  window  yesterday!  and  that 
other  queer  lang  creature  has  just  brought  it  sae  muckle 
farther  on  the  way  to  me.'  He  then  advanced  and  Hfted 
the  heavy  fur  pouch,  which  was  quite  full  of  gold. 
'Mercy  on  us!'  said  Hobbie,  whose  heart  fluttered  be- 
tween glee  at  the  revival  of  his  hopes  and  prospects  in 
life  and  suspicion  of  the  purpose  for  which  this  assist- 

301 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

ance  was  afforded  him  —  'mercy  on  us!  it's  an  awfu' 
thing  to  touch  what  has  been  sae  lately  in  the  claws  of 
something  no  canny.  I  canna  shake  mysell  loose  o'  the 
beUef  that  there  has  been  some  jookery-paukery  of  Sa- 
tan's in  a'  this;  but  I  am  determined  to  conduct  mysell 
like  an  honest  man  and  a  good  Christian,  come  o't  what 
will.' 

He  advanced  accordingly  to  the  cottage  door,  and 
having  knocked  repeatedly  without  receiving  any  an- 
swer, he  at  length  elevated  his  voice  and  addressed  the 
inmate  of  the  hut.  'Elshie!  Father  Elshie!  I  ken  ye're 
within  doors,  and  wauking,  for  I  saw  ye  at  the  door- 
cheek  as  I  cam  ower  the  bent;  will  ye  come  out  and 
speak  just  a  gliff  to  ane  that  has  mony  thanks  to  gie  ye? 
It  was  a'  true  ye  tell'd  me  about  Westburnflat;  but  he's 
sent  back  Grace  safe  and  skaithless,  sae  there 's  nae  ill 
happened  yet  but  what  may  be  suffered  or  sustained. 
Wad  ye  but  come  out  a  gliff,  man,  or  but  say  ye  're  listen- 
ing? Aweel,  since  ye  winna  answer,  I'se  e'en  proceed  wi' 
my  tale.  Ye  see  I  hae  been  thinking  it  wad  be  a  sair 
thing  on  twa  young  folk,  like  Grace  and  me,  to  put  aff 
our  marriage  for  mony  years  till  I  was  abroad  and  came 
back  again  wi'  some  gear;  and  they  say  folk  maunna 
take  booty  in  the  wars  as  they  did  lang  syne,  and  the 
queen's  pay  is  a  sma'  matter;  there's  nae  gathering  gear 
on  that;  and  then  my  grandame's  auld;  and  my  sisters 
wad  sit  peengin'  at  the  ingle-side  for  want  o'  me  to  ding 
them  about;  and  Earnscliff,  or  the  neighbourhood,  or 
maybe  your  ain  sell,  Elshie,  might  want  some  good  turn 
that  Hob  Elliot  could  do  ye ;  and  it 's  a  pity  that  the  auld 
house  o'  the  Heughfoot  should  be  wrecked  a'thegither. 
Sae  I  was  thinking  —  but  deil  hae  me,  that  I  should 


302 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


say  sae/  continued  he,  checking  himself,  'if  I  can  bring 
mysell  to  ask  a  favour  of  ane  that  winna  sae  muckle 
as  ware  a  word  on  me,  to  tell  me  if  he  hears  me  speak- 
ing till  him.' 

'Say  what  thou  wilt,  do  what  thou  wilt,^  answered 
the  Dwarf  from  his  cabin,  'but  begone,  and  leave  me  at 
peace/ 

'Weel,  weel,'  replied  Elliot,  'since  ye  are  willing  to 
hear  me,  I  'se  make  my  tale  short.  Since  ye  are  sae  kind 
as  to  say  ye  are  content  to  lend  me  as  muckle  siller  as 
will  stock  and  plenish  the  Heughfoot,  I  am  content,  on 
my  part,  to  accept  the  courtesy  wi'  mony  kind  thanks, 
and  troth,  I  think  it  will  be  as  safe  in  my  hands  as  yours, 
if  ye  leave  it  flung  about  in  that  gate  for  the  first  loon 
body  to  lift,  forbye  the  risk  o'  bad  neighbours  that  can 
win  through  steekit  doors  and  lockfast  places,  as  I  can 
tell  to  my  cost.  I  say,  since  ye  hae  sae  muckle  con- 
sideration for  me,  I'se  be  blythe  to  accept  your  kind- 
ness; and  my  mother  and  me  —  she's  a  life-renter,  and 
I  am  fiar,  o'  the  lands  o'  Wideopen  —  would  grant 
you  a  wadset  or  an  heritable  bond  for  the  siller,  and  to 
pay  the  annual  rent  half-yearly;  and  Saunders  Wylie- 
coat  to  draw  the  bond,  and  you  to  be  at  nae  charge  wi' 
the  writings.' 

'Cut  short  thy  jargon,  and  begone,'  said  the  Dwarf; 
'thy  loquacious  bull-headed  honesty  makes  thee  a  more 
intolerable  plague  than  the  light-fingered  courtier  who 
would  take  a  man's  all  without  troubling  him  with 
either  thanks,  explanations,  or  apology.  Hence,  I  say! 
thou  art  one  of  those  tame  slaves  whose  word  is  as  good 
as  their  bond.  Keep  the  money,  principal  and  interest, 
until  I  demand  it  of  thee.' 


303 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

'But/  continued  the  pertinacious  Borderer,  'we  are 
a'  life-like  and  death-like,  Elshie,  and  there  really  should 
be  some  black  and  white  on  this  transaction.  Sae 
just  make  me  a  minute  or  missive  in  ony  form  ye  like, 
and  I  'se  write  it  fair  ower,  and  subscribe  it  before  fam- 
ous witnesses.'  Only,  Elshie,  I  wad  wuss  ye  to  pit  nae- 
thing  in't  that  may  be  prejudicial  to  my  salvation;  for 
I'll  hae  the  minister  to  read  it  ower,  and  it  wad  only  be 
exposing  yoursell  to  nae  purpose.  And  now  I 'm  ganging 
awa',  for  ye '11  be  wearied  o'  my  cracks,  and  I  am  wearied 
wi'  cracking  without  an  answer;  and  I'se  bring  ye  a  bit 
o'  bride's-cake  ane  o'  thae  days,  and  maybe  bring  Grace 
to  see  you.  Ye  wad  Uke  to  see  Grace,  man,  for  as  dour 
as  ye  are.  Eh,  Lord!  I  wish  he  may  be  weel,  that  was 
a  sair  grane!  or  maybe  he  thought  I  was  speaking  of 
heavenly  grace,  and  no  of  Grace  Armstrong.  Poor  man, 
I  am  very  doubtfu'  o'  his  condition;  but  I  am  sure  he  is 
as  kind  to  me  as  if  I  were  his  son,  and  a  queer-looking 
father  I  wad  hae  had,  if  that  had  been  e'en  sae.* 

Hobbie  now  relieved  his  benefactor  of  his  presence, 
and  rode  blythely  home  to  display  his  treasure,  and 
consult  upon  the  means  of  repairing  the  damage  which 
his  fortune  had  sustained  through  the  aggression  of  the 
Red  Reiver  of  Westburnflat. 


CHAPTER  XI 


Three  ruflSans  seized  me  yester  mom, 

Alasl  a  maiden  most  forlorn; 

They  choked  my  cries  with  wicked  might, 

And  bound  me  on  a  palfrey  white: 

As  sure  as  Heaven  shall  pity  me, 

I  cannot  tell  what  men  they  be. 

Chrisiabd, 

The  course  of  our  story  must  here  revert  a  little  to  de- 
tail the  circumstances  which  had  placed  Miss  Vere  in 
the  unpleasant  situation  from  which  she  was  unex- 
pectedly, and  indeed  unintentionally,  Uberated  by  the 
appearance  of  Earnscliff  and  Elliot,  with  their  friends 
and  followers,  before  the  Tower  of  Westburnflat. 

On  the  morning  preceding  the  night  in  which  Hob- 
ble's house  was  plundered  and  burnt,  Miss  Vere  was 
requested  by  her  father  to  accompany  him  in  a  walk 
through  a  distant  part  of  the  romantic  grounds  which 
lay  round  his  castle  of  Ellieslaw.  ^To  hear  was  to  obey,' 
in  the  true  style  of  Oriental  despotism;  but  Isabella 
trembled  in  silence  while  she  followed  her  father  through 
rough  paths,  now  winding  by  the  side  of  the  river,  now 
ascending  the  cliffs  which  serve  for  its  banks.  A  single 
servant,  selected  perhaps  for  his  stupidity,  was  the 
only  person  who  attended  them.  From  her  father's 
silence  Isabella  little  doubted  that  he  had  chosen  this 
distant  and  sequestered  scene  to  resume  the  argument 
which  they  had  so  frequently  maintained  upon  the 
subject  of  Sir  Frederick's  addresses,  and  that  he  was 
meditating  in  what  manner  he  should  most  effectually 

6  305 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

impress  upon  her  the  necessity  of  receiving  him  as  her 
suitor.  But  her  fears  seemed  for  some  time  to  be  un- 
founded. The  only  sentences  which  her  father  from 
time  to  time  addressed  to  her  respected  the  beauties  of 
the  romantic  landscape  through  which  they  strolled, 
and  which  varied  its  features  at  every  step.  To  these 
observations,  although  they  seemed  to  come  from  a 
heart  occupied  by  more  gloomy  as  well  as  more  impor- 
tant cares,  Isabella  endeavoured  to  answer  in  a  manner 
as  free  and  unconstrained  as  it  was  possible  for  her  to 
assume,  amid  the  involuntary  apprehensions  which 
crowded  upon  her  imagination. 

Sustaining  with  mutual  difficulty  a  desultory  convers- 
ation, they  at  length  gained  the  centre  of  a  small  wood, 
composed  of  large  oaks,  intermingled  with  birches, 
mountain-ashes,  hazel,  holly,  and  a  variety  of  under- 
wood. The  boughs  of  the  tall  trees  met  closely  above, 
and  the  underwood  filled  up  each  interval  between 
their  trunks  below.  The  spot  on  which  they  stood  was 
rather  more  open;  still,  however,  embowered  under  the 
natural  arcade  of  tall  trees,  and  darkened  on  the  sides 
for  a  space  around  by  a  great  and  Uvely  growth  of  copse- 
wood  and  bushes. 

'And  here,  Isabella,'  said  Mr.  Vere,  as  he  pursued  the 
conversation,  so  often  resumed,  so  often  dropped  — 
*here  I  would  erect  an  altar  to  Friendship.' 

'To  Friendship,  sir!'  said  Miss  Vere;  'and  why  on 
this  gloomy  and  sequestered  spot,  rather  than  else- 
where?' 

'O,  the  propriety  of  the  locale  is  easily  vindicated,' 
repHed  her  father,  with  a  sneer.  'You  know.  Miss  Vere 
for  you,  I  am  well  aware,  are  a  learned  young  lady  — 
306 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


you  know  that  the  Romans  were  not  satisfied  with  em- 
bodying, for  the  purpose  of  worship,  each  useful  quahty 
and  moral  virtue  to  which  they  could  give  a  name;  but 
they,  moreover,  worshipped  the  same  under  each  variety 
of  titles  and  attributes  which  could  give  a  distinct  shade 
or  individual  character  to  the  virtue  in  question.  Now, 
for  example,  the  Friendship  to  whom  a  temple  should 
be  here  dedicated  is  not  Masculine  Friendship,  which 
abhors  and  despises  dupHcity,  art,  and  disguise;  but 
Female  Friendship,  which  consists  in  little  else  than  a 
mutual  disposition  on  the  part  of  the  friends,  as  they 
call  themselves,  to  abet  each  other  in  obscure  fraud  and 
petty  intrigue.' 

*You  are  severe,  sir,'  said  Miss  Vere. 

'Only  just,'  said  her  father;  ^a  humble  copier  I  am 
from  nature,  with  the  advantage  of  contemplating  two 
such  excellent  studies  as  Lucy  Ilderton  and  yourself.' 

^If  I  have  been  unfortunate  enough  to  offend,  sir,  I 
can  conscientiously  excuse  Miss  Ilderton  from  being 
either  my  counsellor  or  confidante.' 

'Indeed!  how  came  you,  then,'  said  Mr.  Vere,  'by  the 
flippancy  of  speech  and  pertness  of  argument  by  which 
you  have  disgusted  Sir  Frederick  and  given  me  of  late 
such  deep  offence?' 

'If  my  manner  has  been  so  unfortunate  as  to  displease 
you,  sir,  it  is  impossible  for  me  to  apologise  too  deeply 
or  too  sincerely;  but  I  cannot  confess  the  same  contri- 
tion for  having  answered  Sir  Frederick  flippantly  when 
he  pressed  me  rudely.  Since  he  forgot  I  was  a  lady,  it 
was  time  to  show  him  that  I  am  at  least  a  woman.' 

'Reserve,  then,  your  pertness  for  those  who  press 
you  on  the  topic,  Isabella,'  said  her  father,  coldly;  'for 

307 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

my  part,  I  am  weary  of  the  subject,  and  will  never  speak 
upon  it  again.' 

^God  bless  you,  my  dear  father!'  said  Isabella,  seiz- 
ing his  reluctant  hand;  Hhereis  nothing  you  can  impose 
on  me,  save  the  task  of  listening  to  this  man's  persecu- 
tion, that  I  will  call,  or  think,  a  hardship.' 

*  You  are  very  obliging,  Miss  Vere,  when  it  happens  to 
suit  you  to  be  dutiful,'  said  her  unrelenting  father,  forc- 
ing himself  at  the  same  time  from  the  affectionate  grasp 
of  her  hand;  ^but  henceforward,  child,  I  shall  save  my- 
self the  trouble  of  ofifering  you  unpleasant  advice  on  any 
topic.  You  must  look  to  yourself.' 

At  this  moment  four  ruffians  rushed  upon  them.  Mr. 
Vere  and  his  servant  drew  their  hangers,  which  it  was 
the  fashion  of  the  time  to  wear,  and  attempted  to  de- 
fend themselves  and  protect  Isabella.  But  while  each  of 
them  was  engaged  by  an  antagonist,  she  was  forced  into 
the  thicket  by  the  two  remaining  villains,  who  placed 
her  and  themselves  on  horses  which  stood  ready  behind 
the  copsewood.  They  mounted  at  the  same  time,  and, 
placing  her  between  them,  set  off  at  a  round  gallop, 
holding  the  reins  of  her  horse  on  each  side.  By  many 
an  obscure  and  winding  path,  over  dale  and  down, 
through  moss  and  moor,  she  was  conveyed  to  the  Tower 
of  Westburnflat  where  she  remained  strictly  watched, 
but  not  otherwise  ill-treated,  under  the  guardianship  of 
the  old  woman  to  whose  son  that  retreat  belonged.  No 
entreaties  could  prevail  upon  the  hag  to  give  Miss  Vere 
any  information  on  the  object  of  her  being  carried  forci- 
bly off  and  confined  in  this  secluded  place.  The  ar- 
rival of  Earnscliff  with  a  strong  party  of  horsemen  be- 
fore the  tower  alarmed  the  robber.  As  he  had  already 

308 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


directed  Grace  Armstrong  to  be  restored  to  her  friends,  it 
did  not  occur  to  him  that  this  unwelcome  visit  was  on  her 
account;  and  seeing  at  the  head  of  the  party  EarnscHff, 
whose  attachment  to  Miss  Vere  was  whispered  in  the 
country,  he  doubted  not  that  her  Hberation  was  the  sole 
object  of  the  attack  upon  his  fastness.  The  dread  of 
personal  consequences  compelled  him  to  deliver  up  his 
prisoner  in  the  manner  we  have  already  related. 

At  the  moment  the  tramp  of  horses  was  heard  which 
carried  off  the  daughter  of  Ellieslaw,  her  father  fell  to 
the  earth,  and  his  servant,  a  stout  young  fellow,  who 
was  gaining  ground  on  the  ruffian  with  whom  he  had 
been  engaged,  left  the  combat  to  come  to  his  master's 
assistance,  Uttle  doubting  that  he  had  received  a 
mortal  wound.  Both  the  villains  immediately  desisted 
from  farther  combat,  and,  retreating  into  the  thicket, 
mounted  their  horses  and  went  off  at  full  speed  after 
their  companions.  Meantime,  Dixon  had  the  satisfac- 
tion to  find  Mr.  Vere  not  only  alive,  but  unwounded. 
He  had  overreached  himself  and  stumbled,  it  seemed, 
over  the  root  of  a  tree  in  making  too  eager  a  blow  at  his 
antagonist.  The  despair  he  felt  at  his  daughter's  dis- 
appearance was,  in  Dixon's  phrase,  such  as  would  have 
melted  the  heart  of  a  'whinstane,'  and  he  was  so  much 
exhausted  by  his  feelings,  and  the  vain  researches  which 
he  made  to  discover  the  track  of  the  ravishers,  that  a 
considerable  time  clasped  ere  he  reached  home  and 
communicated  the  alarm  to  his  domestics. 

All  his  conduct  and  gestures  were  those  of  a  desperate 
man. 

'Speak  not  to  me,  Sir  Frederick,'  he  said,  impatiently; 
'you  are  no  father:  she  was  my  child,  an  ungrateful 

309 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

one,  I  fear,  but  still  my  child  —  my  only  child.  Where 
is  Miss  Ilderton?  She  must  know  something  of  this.  It 
corresponds  with  what  I  was  informed  of  her  schemes. 
Go,  Dixon,  call  Ratcliiffe  here.  Let  him  come  without 
a  minute's  delay.^ 

The  person  he  had  named  at  this  moment  entered 
the  room. 

say,  Dixon,'  continued  Mr.  Vere,  in  an  altered 
tone,  'let  Mr.  RatclilSe  know  I  beg  the  favour  of  his 
company  on  particular  business.  Ah!  my  dear  sir,'  he 
proceeded,  as  if  noticing  him  for  the  first  time,  'you  are 
the  very  man  whose  advice  can  be  of  the  utmost  service 
to  me  in  this  cruel  extremity.' 

'What  has  happened,  Mr.  Vere,  to  discompose  you?' 
said  Mr.  Ratcliffe,  gravely;  and  while  the  Laird  of  EUie- 
slaw  details  to  him,  with  the  most  animated  gestures 
of  grief  and  indignation,  the  singular  adventure  of  the 
morning,  we  shall  take  the  opportunity  to  inform  our 
readers  of  the  relative  circumstances  in  which  these 
gentlemen  stood  to  each  other. 

In  early  youth  Mr.  Vere  of  Ellieslaw  had  been  re- 
markable for  a  career  of  dissipation,  which  in  advanced 
life  he  had  exchanged  for  the  no  less  destructive  career 
of  dark  and  turbulent  ambition.  In  both  cases  he 
had  gratified  the  predominant  passion  without  respect 
to  the  diminution  of  his  private  fortune,  although, 
where  such  inducements  were  wanting  he  was  deemed 
close,  avaricious,  and  grasping.  His  affairs  being  much 
embarrassed  by  his  earlier  extravagance,  he  went  to 
England,  where  he  was  understood  to  have  formed 
a  very  advantageous  matrimonial  connexion.  He  was 
many  years  absent  from  his  family  estate.  Suddenly 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


and  unexpectedly  he  returned  a  widower,  bringing 
with  him  his  daughter,  then  a  girl  of  about  ten  years 
old.  From  this  moment  his  expense  seemed  unbounded 
in  the  eyes  of  the  simple  inhabitants  of  his  native  moun- 
tains. It  was  supposed  he  must  necessarily  have  plunged 
himself  deeply  in  debt.  Yet  he  continued  to  Hve  in  the 
same  lavish  expense  until  some  months  before  the  com- 
mencement of  our  narrative,  when  the  public  opinion 
of  his  embarrassed  circumstances  was  confirmed  by  the 
residence  of  Mr.  Ratcliffe  at  EUieslaw  Castle,  who,  by 
the  tacit  consent,  though  obviously  to  the  great  dis- 
pleasure, of  the  lord  of  the  mansion,  seemed,  from  the 
moment  of  his  arrival,  to  assume  and  exercise  a  pre- 
dominant and  unaccountable  influence  in  the  manage- 
ment of  his  private  affairs. 

Mr.  Ratcliffe  was  a  grave,  steady,  reserved  man,  in 
an  advanced  period  of  life.  To  those  with  whom  he  had 
occasion  to  speak  upon  business  he  appeared  uncom- 
monly well  versed  in  all  its  forms.  With  others  he  held 
little  communication;  but  in  any  casual  intercourse  or 
conversation  displayed  the  powers  of  an  active  and  well- 
informed  mind.  For  some  time  before  taking  up  his 
final  residence  at  the  castle,  he  had  been  an  occasional 
visitor  there,  and  was  at  such  times  treated  by  Mr.  Vere 
(contrary  to  his  general  practice  towards  those  who 
were  inferior  to  him  in  rank)  with  marked  attention, 
and  even  deference.  Yet  his  arrival  always  appeared  to 
be  an  embarrassment  to  his  host  and  his  departure  a  re- 
hef ;  so  that,  when  he  became  a  constant  inmate  of  the 
family  it  was  impossible  not  to  observe  indications  of  the 
displeasure  with  which  Mr.  Vere  regarded  his  presence. 
Indeed,  their  intercourse  formed  a  singular  mixture  of 

311 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

confidence  and  constraint.  Mr.  Vere's  most  important 
affairs  were  regulated  by  Mr.  Ratcliffe;  and,  although 
he  was  none  of  those  indulgent  men  of  fortune  who, 
too  indolent  to  manage  their  own  business,  are  glad  to 
devolve  it  upon  another,  yet  in  many  instances  he  was 
observed  to  give  up  his  own  judgment  and  submit  to 
the  contrary  opinions  which  Mr.  Ratcliffe  did  not  hesi- 
tate distinctly  to  express. 

Nothing  seemed  to  vex  Mr.  Vere  more  than  when 
strangers  indicated  any  observation  of  the  state  of  tute- 
lage under  which  he  appeared  to  labour.  When  it  was 
noticed  by  Sir  Frederick  or  any  of  his  intimates,  he  some- 
times repelled  their  remarks  haughtily  and  indignantly, 
and  sometimes  endeavoured  to  evade  them  by  saying, 
with  a  forced  laugh,  *That  Ratcliffe  knew  his  own  im- 
portance, but  that  he  was  the  most  honest  and  skilful 
fellow  in  the  world;  and  that  it  would  be  impossible  for 
him  to  manage  his  English  affairs  without  his  advice 
and  assistance.'  Such  was  the  person  who  entered  the 
room  at  the  moment  Mr.  Vere  was  summoning  him  to 
his  presence,  and  who  now  heard  with  surprise,  mingled 
with  obvious  incredulity,  the  hasty  narrative  of  what 
had  befallen  Isabella. 

Her  father  concluded,  addressing  Sir  Frederick  and 
the  other  gentlemen,  who  stood  around  in  astonishment, 
'And  now,  my  friends,  you  see  the  most  unhappy 
father  in  Scotland.  Lend  me  your  assistance,  gentle- 
men; give  me  your  advice,  Mr.  Ratcliffe.  I  am  incap- 
able of  acting  or  thinking  under  the  unexpected  vio- 
lence of  such  a  blow.^ 

'Let  us  take  our  horses,  call  our  attendants,  and  scour 
the  country  in  pursuit  of  the  villains/  said  Sir  Frederick. 

312 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


'Is  there  no  one  whom  you  can  suspect/  said  Ratcliffe 
gravely,  *of  having  some  motive  for  this  strange  crime? 
These  are  not  the  days  of  romance,  when  ladies  are  car- 
ried off  merely  for  their  beauty.' 

*I  fear,'  said  Mr.  Vere,  'I  can  too  well  account  for 
this  strange  incident.  Read  this  letter,  which  Miss 
Lucy  Ilderton  thought  fit  to  address  from  my  house  of 
EUieslaw  to  young  Mr.  Earnscliff,  whom,  of  all  men,  I 
have  a  hereditary  right  to  call  my  enemy.  You  see  she 
writes  to  him  as  the  confidante  of  a  passion  which  he 
has  the  assurance  to  entertain  for  my  daughter;  tells 
him  she  serves  his  cause  with  her  friend  very  ardently, 
but  that  he  has  a  friend  in  the  garrison  who  serves  him 
yet  more  effectually.  Look  particularly  at  the  pencilled 
passages,  Mr.  Ratcliffe,  where  this  meddling  girl  recom- 
mends bold  measures,  with  an  assurance  that  his  suit 
would  be  successful  anywhere  beyonds  the  bounds  of 
the  barony  of  EUieslaw.' 

'And  you  argue,  from  this  romantic  letter  of  a  very 
romantic  young  lady,  Mr.  Vere,'  said  Ratcliffe,  'that 
young  Earnscliff  has  carried  off  your  daughter,  and 
committed  a  very  great  and  criminal  act  of  violence,  on 
no  better  advice  and  assurance  than  that  of  Miss  Lucy 
Ilderton?' 

'What  else  can  I  think?'  said  EUieslaw. 

'What  else  can  you  think?'  said  Sir  Frederick;  'or 
who  else  could  have  any  motive  for  committing  such  a 
crime? ' 

'Were  that  the  best  mode  of  fixing  the  guilt,'  said  Mr. 
Ratcliffe,  calmly,  'there  might  easily  be  pointed  out 
persons  to  whom  such  actions  are  more  congenial,  and 
who  have  also  sufficient  motives  of  instigation.  Suppos- 

313 


WAVERLEY  NOVELSl 

ing  it  were  judged  advisable  to  remove  Miss  Vere  to 
some  place  in  which  constraint  might  be  exercised  upon 
her  inclinations  to  a  degree  which  cannot  at  present  be 
attempted  under  the  roof  of  EUieslaw  Castle?  What 
says  Sir  Frederick  Langley  to  that  supposition?' 

*I  say/  returned  Sir  Frederick,  Hhat,  although  Mr, 
Vere  may  choose  to  endure  in  Mr.  Ratcliffe  freedoms 
totally  inconsistent  with  his  situation  in  life,  I  will  not 
permit  such  license  of  innuendo,  by  word  or  look,  to  be 
extended  to  me  with  impunity/ 

^And  I  say,'  said  young  Mareschal  of  Mareschal 
Wells,  who  was  also  a  guest  at  the  castle,  ^that  you 
are  all  stark  mad  to  be  standing  wrangling  here,  instead 
of  going  in  pursuit  of  the  ruffians.' 

'I  have  ordered  off  the  domestics  already  in  the  track 
most  likely  to  overtake  them,'  said  Mr.  Vere;  4f  you 
will  favour  me  with  your  company,  we  will  follow  them 
and  assist  in  the  search.' 

The  efforts  of  the  party  were  totally  unsuccessful, 
probably  because  EUieslaw  directed  the  pursuit  to  pro- 
ceed in  the  direction  of  Earnscliff  Tower,  under  the  sup- 
position that  the  owner  would  prove  to  be  the  author  of 
the  violence,  so  that  they  followed  a  direction  diametri- 
cally opposite  to  that  in  which  the  ruflBans  had  actually 
proceeded.  In  the  evening  they  returned  harassed  and 
out  of  spirits.  But  other  guests  had  in  the  meanwhile 
arrived  at  the  castle;  and  after  the  recent  loss  sustained 
by  the  owner  had  been  related,  wondered  at,  and  la- 
mented, the  recollection  of  it  was,  for  the  present, 
drowned  in  the  discussion  of  deep  political  intrigues,  of 
which  the  crisis  and  explosion  were  momentarily  looked 
for. 

314 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


Several  of  the  gentlemen  who  took  part  in  this  divan 
were  CathoKcs,  and  all  of  them  stanch  Jacobites,  whose 
hopes  were  at  present  at  the  highest  pitch,  as  an  invas- 
ion in  favour  of  the  Pretender  was  daily  expected  from 
France,  which  Scotland,  between  the  defenceless  state 
of  its  garrisons  and  fortified  places  and  the  general  dis- 
affection of  the  inhabitants,  was  rather  prepared  to 
welcome  than  to  resist.  Ratcliffe,  who  neither  sought  to 
assist  at  their  consultations  on  this  subject  nor  was  in- 
vited to  do  so,  had  in  the  meanwhile  retired  to  his  own 
apartment.  Miss  Ilderton  was  sequestered  from  society 
in  a  sort  of  honourable  confinement,  ^ until,'  said  Mr. 
Vere,  ^she  should  be  safely  conveyed  home  to  her  fa- 
ther's house,'  an  opportunity  for  which  occurred  on  the 
following  day. 

The  domestics  could  not  help  thinking  it  remarkable 
how  soon  the  loss  of  Miss  Vere,  and  the  strange  manner 
in  which  it  had  happened,  seemed  to  be  forgotten  by  the 
other  guests  at  the  castle..  They  knew  not  that  those 
the  most  interested  in  her  fate  were  well  acquainted 
with  the  cause  of  her  being  carried  off,  and  the  place  of 
her  retreat ;  and  that  the  others,  in  the  anxious  and 
doubtful  moments  which  preceded  the  breaking  forth 
of  a  conspiracy,  were  little  accessible  to  any  feelings 
but  what  arose  immediately  out  of  their  own  machina- 
tions. 


CHAPTER  XII 


Some  one  way,  some  another.  Do  you  know 
Where  we  may  apprehend  her? 

The  researches  after  Miss  Vere  were  (for  the  sake  of 
appearances,  perhaps)  resumed  on  the  succeeding  day, 
with  similar  bad  success,  and  the  party  were  return- 
ing toward  EUieslaw  in  the  evening. 

'It  is  singular,'  said  Mareschal  to  Ratcliflfe,  'that 
four  horsemen  and  a  female  prisoner  should  have  passed 
through  the  country  without  leaving  the  slightest  trace 
of  their  passage.  One  would  think  they  had  traversed 
the  air  or  sunk  through  the  ground.' 

'Men  may,  often,'  answered  Ratcliffe,  'arrive  at  the 
knowledge  of  that  which  is  from  discovering  that  which 
is  not.  We  have  now  scoured  every  road,  path,  and 
track  leading  from  the  castle,  in  all  the  various  points 
of  the  compass,  saving  only  that  intricate  and  difficult 
pass  which  leads  southward  down  the  Westbum  and 
through  the  morasses.' 

'And  why  have  we  not  examined  that?'  said  Mar- 
eschal. 

'O,  Mr.  Vere  can  best  answer  that  question/  replied 
his  companion,  drily. 

'Then  I  will  ask  it  instantly,'  said  Mareschal;  and  ad- 
dressing Mr.  Vere,  'I  am  informed,  sir,'  said  he,  'there 
is  a  path  we  have  not  examined,  leading  by  Westburn- 
flat.' 

'0,'  said  Sir  Frederick,  laughing,  'we  know  the  owner 
316 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


of  Westburnflat  well  —  a  wild  lad,  that  knows  little 
difference  between  his  neighbour's  goods  and  his  own; 
but,  withal,  very  honest  to  his  principles.  He  would 
disturb  nothing  belonging  to  EUieslaw.' 

^Besides,'  said  Mr.  Vere,  smiling  mysteriously,  'he 
had  other  tow  on  his  distaff  last  night.  Have  you  not 
heard  young  Elliot  of  the  Heughfoot  has  had  his  house 
burnt  and  his  cattle  driven  away,  because  he  refused  to 
give  up  his  arms  to  some  honest  men  that  think  of  start- 
ing for  the  king? ' 

The  company  smiled  upon  each  other,  as  at  hearing 
of  an  exploit  which  favoured  their  own  views. 

'Yet,  nevertheless,'  resumed  Mareschal,  'I  think  we 
ought  to  ride  in  this  direction  also,  otherwise  we  shall 
certainly  be  blamed  for  our  negligence.' 

No  reasonable  objection  could  be  offered  to  this  pro- 
posal, and  the  party  turned  their  horses'  heads  towards 
Westburnflat. 

They  had  not  proceeded  very  far  in  that  direction 
when  the  trampling  of  horses  was  heard,  and  a  small 
body  of  riders  were  perceived  advancing  to  meet  them. 

^  There  comes  Earnscliff  /  said  Mareschal;  'I  know  his 
bright  bay  with  the  star  in  his  front.' 

'And  there  is  my  daughter  along  with  him,'  ex- 
claimed Vere,  furiously.  'Who  shall  call  my  suspicions 
false  or  injurious  now?  Gentlemen,  friends,  lend  me 
the  assistance  of  your  swords  for  the  recovery  of  my 
child.' 

He  unsheathed  his  weapon,  and  was  imitated  by  Sir 
Frederick  and  several  of  the  party,  who  prepared  to 
charge  those  that  were  advancing  towards  them.  But 
the  greater  part  hesitated. 

317 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

'They  come  to  us  in  all  peace  and  security,'  said 
Mareschal  Wells;  4et  us  first  hear  what  account  they 
give  us  of  this  mysterious  affair.  If  Miss  Vere  has  sus- 
tained the  slightest  insult  or  injury  from  Earnscliff,  I 
will  be  first  to  revenge  her;  but  let  us  hear  what  they 
say/ 

^You  do  me  wrong  by  your  suspicions,  Mareschal/ 
continued  Vere;  *you  are  the  last  I  would  have  ex- 
pected to  hear  express  them.' 

^You  injure  yourself,  Ellieslaw,  by  your  violence, 
though  the  cause  may  excuse  it.' 

He  then  advanced  a  little  before  the  rest,  and  called 
out  with  a  loud  voice  —  *  Stand,  Mr.  Earnscliff ;  or  do 
you  and  Miss  Vere  advance  alone  to  meet  us.  You  are 
charged  with  having  carried  that  lady  off  from  her  fa- 
ther's house;  and  we  are  here  in  arms  to  shed  our  best 
blood  for  her  recovery,  and  for  bringing  to  justice  those 
who  have  injured  her.' 

*And  who  would  do  that  more  willingly  than  I,  Mr. 
Mareschal?'  said  Earnscliff,  haughtily  —  Hhan  I,  who 
had  the  satisfaction  this  morning  to  hberate  her  from 
the  dungeon  in  which  I  found  her  confined,  and  who  am 
now  escorting  her  back  to  the  Castle  of  Ellieslaw? ' 

'Is  this  so.  Miss  Vere?'  said  Mareschal. 

'It  is,'  answered  Isabella,  eagerly  —  'it  is  so;  for 
Heaven's  sake,  sheathe  your  swords.  I  will  swear  by  all 
that  is  sacred  that  I  was  carried  off  by  rufl&ans,  whose 
persons  and  object  were  ahke  unknown  to  me,  and  am 
now  restored  to  freedom  by  means  of  this  gentleman's 
gallant  interference.' 

'By  whom,  and  wherefore,  could  this  have  been 
done?'  pursued  Mareschal.  'Had  you  no  knowledge  of 

318 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


the  place  to  which  you  were  conveyed?  Earnscliflf, 
where  did  you  find  this  lady? ' 

But  ere  either  question  could  be  answered  Ellieslaw 
advanced  and,  returning  his  sword  to  the  scabbard,  cut 
short  the  conference. 

'When  I  know,'  he  said, 'exactly  how  much  I  owe 
to  Mr.  EarnscKff,  he  may  rely  on  suitable  acknowledg- 
ments; meantime,'  taking  the  bridle  of  Miss  Vere's  horse, 
'thus  far  I  thank  him  for  replacing  my  daughter  in  the 
power  of  her  natural  guardian.' 

A  sullen  bend  of  the  head  was  returned  by  Earnscliflf 
with  equal  haughtiness;  and  Ellieslaw,  turning  back 
with  his  daughter  upon  the  road  to  his  own  house,  ap- 
peared engaged  with  her  in  a  conference  so  earnest  that 
the  rest  of  the  company  judged  it  improper  to  intrude 
by  approaching  them  too  nearly.  In  the  meantime 
Earnscliff,  as  he  took  leave  of  the  other  gentlemen  be- 
longing to  Ellieslaw's  party,  said  aloud,  ^  Although  I  am 
unconscious  of  any  circumstance  in  my  conduct  that 
can  authorise  such  a  suspicion,  I  cannot  but  observe 
that  Mr.  Vere  seems  to  believe  that  I  have  had  some 
hand  in  the  atrocious  violence  which  has  been  oflfered  to 
his  daughter.  I  request  you,  gentlemen,  to  take  notice 
of  my  explicit  denial  of  a  charge  so  dishonourable;  and 
that,  although  I  can  pardon  the  bewildering  feelings  of 
a  father  in  such  a  moment,  yet,  if  any  other  gentleman 
(he  looked  hard  at  Sir  Frederick  Langley)  thinks  my 
word  and  that  of  Miss  Vere,  with  the  evidence  of  my 
friends  who  accompany  me,  too  slight  for  my  exculpa- 
tion, I  will  be  happy,  most  happy,  to  repel  the  charge 
as  becomes  a  man  who  counts  his  honour  dearer  than 
his  life.' 


319 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

'And  I'll  be  his  second,'  said  Simon  of  Hackburn, 
'and  take  up  ony  twa  o'  ye,  gentle  or  semple,  laird  or 
loon;  it's  a'  ane  to  Simon.' 

^Who  is  that  rough-looking  fellow?'  said  Sir  Fred- 
erick Langley;  'and  what  has  he  to  do  with  the  quarrels 
of  gentlemen?' 

'I'se  be  a  lad  frae  the  Hie  Te'iot,'  said  Simon,  'and 
I  'se  quarrel  wi'  ony  body  I  like,  except  the  king  or  the 
laird  I  live  under.' 

'Come,'  said  Mareschal,  'let  us  have  no  brawls.  Mr. 
Earnscliff ,  although  we  do  not  think  alike  in  some  things, 
I  trust  we  may  be  opponents,  even  enemies,  if  fortune 
will  have  it  so,  without  losing  our  respect  for  birth,  fair- 
play,  and  each  other.  I  believe  you  as  innocent  of  this 
matter  as  I  am  myself;  and  I  will  pledge  myself  that  my 
cousin  Ellieslaw,  as  soon  as  the  perplexity  attending 
these  sudden  events  has  left  his  judgment  to  its  free 
exercise,  shall  handsomely  acknowledge  the  very  im- 
portant service  you  have  this  day  rendered  him.' 

'To  have  served  your  cousin  is  a  sufficient  reward  in 
itself.  Good  evening,  gentlemen,'  continued  EarnscUff, 
'I  see  most  of  your  party  are  already  on  their  way  to 
EUieslaw.' 

Then  saluting  Mareschal  with  courtesy  and  the  rest 
of  the  party  with  indifference,  Earnscliff  turned  his 
horse  and  rode  towards  the  Heughfoot,  to  concert 
measures  with  Hobbie  Elliot  for  farther  researches  after 
his  bride,  of  whose  restoration  to  her  friends  he  was 
still  ignorant. 

'There  he  goes,'  said  Mareschal;  'he  is  a  fine,  gallant 
young  fellow,  upon  my  soul;  and  yet  I  should  like  well 
to  have  a  thrust  with  him  on  the  green  turf.  I  was 

320 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


reckoned  at  college  nearly  his  equal  with  the  foils,  and 
I  should  like  to  try  him  at  sharps/ 

'In  my  opinion/  answered  Sir  Frederick  Langley, 
'we  have  done  very  ill  in  having  suffered  him  and  those 
men  who  are  with  him  to  go  off  without  taking  away 
their  arms;  for  the  Whigs  are  very  likely  to  draw  to  a 
head  under  such  a  sprightly  young  fellow  as  that/ 

'For  shame,  Sir  Frederick!'  exclaimed  Mareschal. 
'Do  you  think  that  Ellieslaw  could  in  honour  consent  to 
any  violence  being  offered  to  Earnscliff ,  when  he  entered 
his  bounds  only  to  bring  back  his  daughter?  or,  if  he 
were  to  be  of  your  opinion,  do  you  think  that  I,  and  the 
rest  of  these  gentlemen,  would  disgrace  ourselves  by 
assisting  in  such  a  transaction?  No,  no,  fair  play  and 
auld  Scotland  for  ever!  When  the  sword  is  drawn  I 
will  be  as  ready  to  use  it  as  any  man;  but  while  it  is 
in  the  sheath  let  us  behave  like  gentlemen  and  neigh- 
bours/ 

Soon  after  this  colloquy  they  reached  the  castle,  when 
Ellieslaw,  who  had  been  arrived  a  few  minutes  before, 
met  them  in  the  courtyard. 

'How  is  Miss  Vere?  and  have  you  learned  the  cause 
of  her  being  carried  off? '  asked  Mareschal,  hastily. 

'She  is  retired  to  her  apartment  greatly  fatigued;  and 
I  cannot  expect  much  light  upon  her  adventure  till  her 
spirits  are  somewhat  recruited,'  repHed  her  father.  'She 
and  I  were  not  the  less  obliged  to  you,  Mareschal,  and 
to  my  other  friends,  for  their  kind  inquiries.  But  I  must 
suppress  the  father's  feelings  for  a  while  to  give  myself 
up  to  those  of  the  patriot.  You  know  this  is  the  day 
fixed  for  our  final  decision;  time  presses,  our  friends 
are  arriving,  and  I  have  opened  house  not  only  for  the 


6 


321 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


gentry,  but  for  the  under  spur-leathers  whom  we  must 
necessarily  employ.  We  have,  therefore,  little  time  to 
prepare  to  meet  them.  Look  over  these  Hsts,  Marchie 
(an  abbreviation  by  which  Mareschal  Wells  was  known 
among  his  friends).  Do  you,  Sir  Frederick,  read  these 
letters  from  Lothian  and  the  west;  all  is  ripe  for  the 
sickle,  and  we  have  but  to  summon  out  the  reapers.' 

'With  all  my  heart,'  said  Mareschal;  Hhe  more  mis- 
chief the  better  sport.' 

Sir  Frederick  looked  grave  and  disconcerted. 

*  Walk  aside  with  me,  my  good  friend,'  said  EUieslaw 
to  the  sombre  baronet;  *I  have  something  for  your  pri- 
vate ear,  with  which  I  know  you  will  be  gratified.' 

They  walked  into  the  house,  leaving  Ratclifle  and 
Mareschal  standing  together  in  the  court. 

'And  so,'  said  Ratcliffe,  'the  gentlemen  of  your  polit- 
ical persuasion  think  the  downfall  of  this  government 
so  certain  that  they  disdain  even  to  throw  a  decent 
disguise  over  the  machinations  of  their  party? ' 

'Faith,  Mr.  Ratcliffe,'  answered  Mareschal,  'the  ac- 
tions and  sentiments  of  your  friends  may  require  to  be 
veiled,  but  I  am  better  pleased  that  ours  can  go  bare- 
faced.' 

'And  is  it  possible,'  continued  Ratcliffe,  'that  you, 
who,  notwithstanding  your  thoughtlessness  and  heat  of 
temper  —  I  beg  pardon,  Mr.  Mareschal,  I  am  a  plain 
man  —  that  you,  who,  notwithstanding  these  constitu- 
tional defects,  possess  natural  good  sense  and  acquired 
information,  should  be  infatuated  enough  to  embroil 
yourself  in  such  desperate  proceedings?  How  does  your 
head  feel  when  you  are  engaged  in  these  dangerous  con- 
ferences? ' 


322 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


'Not  quite  so  secure  on  my  shoulders/  answered 
Mareschal,  'as  if  I  were  talking  of  hunting  and  hawking. 
I  am  not  of  so  indifferent  a  mould  as  my  cousin  Ellies- 
law,  who  speaks  treason  as  if  it  were  a  child's  nursery 
rhymes  and  loses  and  recovers  that  sweet  girl,  his 
daughter,  with  a  good  deal  less  emotion  on  both  oc- 
casions than  would  have  affected  me  had  I  lost  and 
recovered  a  greyhound  puppy.  My  temper  is  not  quite 
so  inflexible,  nor  my  hate  against  government  so  invet- 
erate, as  to  blind  me  to  the  full  danger  of  the  attempt.' 

'Then  why  involve  yourself  in  it?'  said  Ratcliffe. 

'Why,  I  love  this  poor  exiled  king  with  all  my  heart; 
and  my  father  was  an  old  Killiecrankie  man,  and  I  long 
to  see  some  amends  on  the  Unionists  and  courtiers  that 
have  bought  and  sold  old  Scotland,  whose  crown  has 
been  so  long  independent.' 

'And  for  the  sake  of  these  shadows,'  said  his  monitor, 
'you  are  going  to  involve  your  country  in  war  and  your- 
self in  trouble?' 

'/  involve?  No!  but,  trouble  for  trouble,  I  had  rather 
it  came  to-morrow  than  a  month- hence.  Come,  I  know 
it  will ;  and,  as  your  country  folk  say,  better  soon  than 
syne,  it  will  never  find  me  younger;  and  as  for  hanging, 
as  Sir  John  Falstaff  says,  "I  can  become  a  gallows  as 
well  as  another."  You  know  the  end  of  the  old  bal- 
lad?— 

'Sae  rantingly,  sae  wantonly, 

Sae  dauntingly  gaed  he, 
He  play'd  a  spring,  and  danc'd  it  round 

Below  the  gallows-tree.* 

'Mr.  Mareschal,  I  am  sorry  for  you,'  said  his  grave 
adviser. 


323 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

*I  am  obliged  to  you,  Mr.  Ratcliffe,  but  I  would  not 
have  you  judge  of  our  enterprise  by  my  way  of  vindi- 
cating it;  there  are  wiser  heads  than  mine  at  the  work/ 

^  Wiser  heads  than  yours  may  lie  as  low/  said  Rat- 
cliffe, in  a  warning  tone. 

'Perhaps  so;  but  no  lighter  heart  shall;  and,  to  pre- 
vent it  being  made  heavier  by  your  remonstrances,  I 
will  bid  you  adieu,  Mr.  Ratcliffe,  till  dinner-time,  when 
you  shall  see  that  my  apprehensions  have  not  spoiled 
my  appetite/ 


CHAPTER  XIII 


To  face  the  garment  of  rebellion 
With  some  fine  colour  that  may  please  the  eye 
Of  fickle  changelings  and  poor  discontents, 
Which  gape  and  rub  the  elbow  at  the  news 
Of  hurly-burly  innovation. 

EenrylV,  Parti. 

There  had  been  great  preparations  made  at  Ellieslaw 
Castle  for  the  entertainment  on  this  important  day, 
when  not  only  the  gentlemen  of  note  in  the  neighbour- 
hood attached  to  the  Jacobite  interest  were  expected  to 
rendezvous,  but  also  many  subordinate  malcontents, 
whom  difficulty  of  circumstances,  love  of  change,  resent- 
ment against  England,  or  any  of  the  numerous  causes 
which  inflamed  men's  passions  at  the  time,  rendered  apt 
to  join  in  perilous  enterprise.  The  men  of  rank  and  sub- 
stance were  not  many  in  number;  for  almost  all  the 
large  proprietors  stood  aloof,  and  most  of  the  smaller 
gentry  and  yeomanry  were  of  the  Presbyterian  persua- 
sion, and  therefore,  however  displeased  with  the  Union, 
unwilling  to  engage  in  a  Jacobite  conspiracy.  But  there 
were  some  gentlemen  of  property  who,  either  from  early 
principle,  from  religious  motives,  or  sharing  the  ambi- 
tious views  of  Ellieslaw,  had  given  countenance  to  his 
scheme;  and  there  were  also  some  young  fiery  men,  like 
Mareschal,  desirous  of  signalising  themselves  by  en- 
gaging in  a  dangerous  enterprise,  by  which  they  hoped 
to  vindicate  the  independence  of  their  country.  The 
other  members  of  the  party  were  persons  of  inferior 

32s 


-WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


rank  and  desperate  fortunes,  who  were  now  ready  to 
rise  in  that  part  of  the  country,  as  they  did  afterwards 
in  the  year  1715,  under  Forster  and  Derwentwater, 
when  a  troop,  commanded  by  a  Border  gentleman 
named  Douglas,  consisted  almost  entirely  of  freebooters, 
among  whom  the  notorious  Luck-in-a-Bag,  as  he  was 
called,  held  a  distinguished  command.  We  think  it  neces- 
sary to  mention  these  particulars,  applicable  solely  to 
the  province  in  which  our  scene  lies;  because,  unques- 
tionably, the  Jacobite  party  in  the  other  parts  of  the 
kingdom  consisted  of  much  more  formidable,  as  well  as 
much  more  respectable,  materials. 

One  long  table  extended  itself  down  the  ample  hall 
of  Ellieslaw  Castle,  which  was  still  left  much  in  the 
state  in  which  it  had  been  one  hundred  years  before, 
stretching,  that  is,  in  gloomy  length  along  the  whole 
side  of  the  castle,  vaulted  with  ribbed  arches  of  free- 
stone, the  groins  of  which  sprung  from  projecting  fig- 
ures, that,  carved  into  all  the  wild  forms  which  the  fan- 
tastic imagination  of  a  Gothic  architect  could  devise, 
grinned,  frowned,  and  gnashed  their  tusks  at  the  assem- 
bly below.  Long  narrow  windows  lighted  the  banqueting- 
room  on  both  sides,  filled  up  with  stained  glass,  through 
which  the  sun  emitted  a  dusky  and  discoloured  light. 
A  banner  which  tradition  averred  to  have  been  taken 
from  the  English  at  the  battle  of  Sark  waved  over  the 
chair  in  which  Ellieslaw  presided,  as  if  to  inflame  the 
courage  of  the  guests  by  reminding  them  of  ancient 
victories  over  their  neighbours.  He  himself,  a  portly 
figure,  dressed  on  this  occasion  with  uncommon  care, 
and  with  features  which,  though  of  a  stern  and  sinister 
expression,  might  well  be  termed  handsome,  looked  the 

326 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 

old  feudal  baron  extremely  well.  Sir  Frederick  Lang- 
ley  was  placed  on  his  right  hand,  and  Mr.  Mareschal  of 
Mareschal  Wells  on  his  left.  Some  gentlemen  of  con- 
sideration, with  their  sons,  brothers,  and  nephews,  were 
seated  at  the  upper  end  of  the  table,  and  among  these 
Mr.  Ratcliffe  had  his  place.  Beneath  the  salt-cellar  (a 
massive  piece  of  plate  which  occupied  the  midst  of  the 
table)  sate  the  sine  nomine  turha,  men  whose  vanity  was 
gratified  by  holding  even  this  subordinate  space  at  the 
social  board,  while  the  distinction  observed  in  rank- 
ing them  was  a  salvo  to  the  pride  of  their  superiors. 
That  the  lower  house  was  not  very  select  must  be  ad- 
mitted, since  Willie  of  Westburnflat  was  one  of  the 
party.  The  unabashed  audacity  of  this  fellow,  in  daring 
to  present  himself  in  the  house  of  a  gentleman  to  whom 
he  had  just  offered  so  flagrant  an  insult,  can  only  be  ac- 
counted for  by  supposing  him  conscious  that  his  share 
in  carrying  off  Miss  Vere  was  a  secret  safe  in  her  posses- 
sion and  that  of  her  father. 

Before  this  numerous  and  miscellaneous  party  was 
placed  a  dinner,  consisting,  not  indeed  of  the  delicacies 
of  the  season,  as  the  newspapers  express  it,  but  of  viands 
ample,  solid,  and  sumptuous,  under  which  the  very 
board  groaned.  But  the  mirth  was  not  in  proportion  to 
the  good  cheer.  The  lower  end  of  the  table  were,  for 
some  time,  chilled  by  constraint  and  respect  on  finding 
themselves  members  of  so  august  an  assembly;  and 
those  who  were  placed  around  it  had  those  feelings  of 
awe  with  which  P.  P.,  clerk  of  the  parish,  describes 
himself  oppressed,  when  he  first  uplifted  the  psalm  in 
presence  of  those  persons  of  high  worship,  the  wise  Mr. 
Justice  Freeman,  the  good  Lady  Jones,  and  the  great 

327 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Sir  Thomas  Truby.  This  ceremonious  frost,  however, 
soon  gave  way  before  the  incentives  to  merriment,  which 
were  liberally  supplied,  and  as  liberally  consumed  by 
the  guests  of  the  lower  description.  They  became  talka- 
tive, loud,  and  even  clamorous  in  their  mirth. 

But  it  was  not  in  the  power  of  wine  or  brandy  to  ele- 
vate the  spirits  of  those  who  held  the  higher  places  at 
the  banquet.  They  experienced  the  chilling  revulsion  of 
spirits  which  often  takes  place  when  men  are  called 
upon  to  take  a  desperate  resolution,  after  having  placed 
themselves  in  circumstances  where  it  is  alike  difficult  to 
advance  or  to  recede.  The  precipice  looked  deeper  and 
more  dangerous  as  they  approached  the  brink,  and 
each  waited  with  an  inward  emotion  of  awe,  expecting 
which  of  his  confederates  would  set  the  example  by 
plunging  himself  down.  This  inward  sensation  of  fear 
and  reluctance  acted  differently,  according  to  the  va- 
rious habits  and  characters  of  the  company.  One  looked 
grave;  another  looked  silly;  a  third  gazed  with  appre- 
hension on  the  empty  seats  at  the  higher  end  of  the  table, 
designed  for  members  of  the  conspiracy  whose  prudence 
had  prevailed  over  their  political  zeal,  and  who  had 
absented  themselves  from  their  consultations  at  this 
critical  period;  and  some  seemed  to  be  reckoning  up  in 
their  minds  the  comparative  rank  and  prospects  of 
those  who  were  present  and  absent.  Sir  Frederick  Lang- 
ley  was  reserved,  moody,  and  discontented.  Ellieslaw 
himself  made  such  forced  efforts  to  raise  the  spirits  of 
the  company  as  plainly  marked  the  flagging  of  his  own. 
Ratcliffe  watched  the  scene  with  the  composure  of  a 
vigilant  but  uninterested  spectator.  Mareschal  alone, 
true  to  the  thoughtless  vivacity  of  his  character,  eat  and 

328 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


drank,  laughed  and  jested,  and  seemed  even  to  find 
amusement  in  the  embarrassment  of  the  company. 

'What  has  damped  our  noble  courage  this  morning?' 
he  exclaimed.  'We  seem  to  be  met  at  a  funeral,  where 
the  chief  mourners  must  not  speak  above  their  breath, 
while  the  mutes  and  the  saulies  (looking  to  the  lower  end 
of  the  table)  are  carousing  below.  Ellieslaw,  when  will 
you  lift?  where  sleeps  your  spirit,  man?  and  what  has 
quelled  the  high  hope  of  the  Knight  of  Langley  Dale?' 

'You  speak  like  a  madman,'  said  Ellieslaw;  'do  you 
not  see  how  many  are  absent? ' 

'And  what  of  that?'  said  Mareschal.  'Did  you  not 
know  before  that  one-half  of  the  world  are  better  talkers 
than  doers?  For  my  part,  I  am  much  encouraged  by  see- 
ing at  least  two-thirds  of  our  friends  true  to  the  rendez- 
vous, though  I  suspect  one-half  of  these  came  to  secure 
the  dinner  in  case  of  the  worst.' 

'There  is  no  news  from  the  coast  which  can  amount 
to  certainty  of  the  King's  arrival,'  said  another  of 
the  company,  in  that  tone  of  subdued  and  tremulous 
whisper  which  implies  a  failure  of  resolution. 

'  Not  a  line  from  the  Earl  of  D — — ,  nor  a  single  gentle- 
man from  the  southern  side  of  the  Border,'  said  a  third. 

'Who  is  he  that  wishes  for  more  men  from  England,' 
exclaimed  Mareschal,  in  a  theatrical  tone  of  affected 
heroism, 

'My  cousin  Ellieslaw?  No,  my  fair  cousin, 
If  we  are  doom'd  to  die  ' 

'For  God's  sake,'  said  Ellieslaw,  'spare  us  your  folly 
at  present,  Mareschal.' 

'Well,  then,'  said  his  kinsman,  'I'll  bestow  my  wis- 
dom upon  you  instead,  such  as  it  is.  If  we  have  gone 

329 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


forward  like  fools,  do  not  let  us  go  back  like  cowards. 
We  have  done  enough  to  draw  upon  us  both  the  sus- 
picion and  vengeance  of  the  government ;  do  not  let 
us  give  up  before  we  have  done  something  to  deserve  it 
What,  will  no  one  speak?  Then  I'll  leap  the  ditch  the 
first/  And,  starting  up,  he  filled  a  beer-glass  to  the  brim 
with  claret,  and,  waving  his  hand,  commanded  all  to 
follow  his  example  and  to  rise  up  from  their  seats.  All 
obeyed,  the  more  qualified  guests  as  if  passively,  the 
others  with  enthusiasm.  ^Then,  my  friends,  I  give  you 
the  pledge  of  the  day  —  The  independence  of  Scotland, 
and  the  health  of  our  lawful  sovereign,  King  James'  the 
Eighth,  now  landed  in  Lothian,  and,  as  I  trust  and  be- 
lieve, in  full  possession  of  his  ancient  capital!' 

He  quaffed  off  the  wine  and  threw  the  glass  over  his 
head. 

*It  should  never,'  he  said,  'be  profaned  by  a  meaner 
toast.' 

All  followed  his  example,  and,  amid  the  crash  of 
glasses  and  the  shouts  of  the  company,  pledged  them- 
selves to  stand  or  fall  with  the  principles  and  political 
interest  which  their  toast  expressed. 

'You  have  leaped  the  ditch  with  a  witness,'  said 
Ellieslaw,  apart  to  Mareschal;  'but  I  believe  it  is  all  for 
the  best;  at  all  events  we  cannot  now  retreat  from  our 
undertaking.  One  man  alone  (looking  at  Ratcliffe)  has 
refused  the  pledge;  but  of  that  by  and  by.' 

Then,  rising  up,  he  addressed  the  company  in  a  style 
of  inflammatory  invective  against  the  government  and 
its  measures,  but  especially  the  Union;  a  treaty  by 
means  of  which,  he  affirmed,  Scotland  had  been  at  once 
cheated  of  her  independence,  her  commerce,  and  her 

330 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


honour,  and  laid  as  a  fettered  slave  at  the  foot  of  the  rival 
against  whom,  through  such  a  length  of  ages,  through 
so  many  dangers,  and  by  so  much  blood,  she  had  hon- 
ourably defended  her  rights.  This  was  touching  a  theme 
which  found  a  responsive  chord  in  the  bosom  of  every 
man  present. 

^Our  commerce  is  destroyed,'  hallooed  old  John  Rew- 
castle,  a  Jedburgh  smuggler,  from  the  lower  end  of  the 
table. 

^Our  agriculture  is  ruined,'  said  the  Laird  of  Broken- 
girth-flow,  a  territory  which,  since  the  days  of  Adam, 
had  borne  nothing  but  ling  and  whortle-berries. 

'Our  religion  is  cut  up,  root  and  branch,'  said  the 
pimple-nosed  pastor  of  the  Episcopal  meeting-house  at 
Kirkwhistle. 

*  We  shall  shortly  neither  dare  shoot  a  deer  nor  kiss  a 
wench  without  a  certificate  from  the  presbytery  and 
kirk-treasurer,'  said  Mareschal  Wells. 

'Or  make  a  brandy  jeroboam  in  a  frosty  morning 
without  license  from  a  commissioner  of  excise,'  said  the 
smuggler. 

*0r  ride  over  the  fell  in  a  moonless  night, 'said  West- 
burnflat,  'without  asking  leave  of  young  Earnscliff  or 
some  Englified  justice  of  the  peace.  Thae  were  gude 
days  on  the  Border  when  there  was  neither  peace  nor 
justice  heard  of.' 

'Let  us  remember  our  wrongs  at  Darien  and  Glen- 
coe,'  continued  Ellieslaw,  'and  take  arms  for  the  pro- 
tection of  our  rights,  our  fortunes,  our  lives,  and  our 
families.' 

'Think  upon  genuine  Episcopal  ordination,  without 
which  there  can  be  no  lawful  clergy,'  said  the  divine. 

331 


^  WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

'Think  of  the  piracies  committed  on  our  East-Indian 
trade  by  Green  and  the  English  thieves/  said  William 
Willieson,  half-owner  and  sole  skipper  of  a  brig  that 
made  four  voyages  annually  between  Cockpool  and 
Whitehaven. 

*  Remember  your  liberties/  rejoined  Mareschal,  who 
seemed  to  take  a  mischievous  delight  in  precipitating 
the  movements  of  the  enthusiasm  which  he  had  excited, 
like  a  roguish  boy  who,  having  lifted  the  sluice  of  a  mill- 
dam,  enjoys  the  clatter  of  the  wheels  which  he  has  put 
in  motion,  without  thinking  of  the  mischief  he  may  have 
occasioned  —  'remember  your  liberties,'  he  exclaimed; 
*  confound  cess,  press,  and  presbytery,  and  the  memory 
of  old  Willie  that  first  brought  them  upon  us!' 

'Damn  the  ganger !'  echoed  old  John  Rewcastle;  'I  '11 
cleave  him  wi'  my  ain  hand.' 

'And  confound  the  country  keeper  and  the  constable!' 
reechoed  Westburnflat ;  '  I  '11  weize  a  brace  of  balls 
through  them  before  morning.' 

'We  are  agreed  then,'  said  EUieslaw,  when  the  shouts 
had  somewhat  subsided,  '  to  bear  this  state  of  things  no 
longer? ' 

*  We  are  agreed  to  a  man,'  answered  his  guests. 
'Not  Hterally  so,'  said  Mr.  Ratcliffe;  'for,  though  I 

cannot  hope  to  assuage  the  violent  symptoms  which 
seem  so  suddenly  to  have  seized  upon  the  company,  yet 
I  beg  to  observe  that,  so  far  as  the  opinion  of  a  single 
member  goes,  I  do  not  entirely  coincide  in  the  list  of 
grievances  which  has  been  announced,  and  that  I  do 
utterly  protest  against  the  frantic  measures  which  you 
seem  disposed  to  adopt  for  removing  them.  I  can  easily 
suppose  much  of  what  has  been  spoken  may  have 

332 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


arisen  out  of  the  heat  of  the  moment,  or  have  been  said 
perhaps  in  jest.  But  there  are  some  jests  of  a  nature 
very  apt  to  transpire;  and  you  ought  to  remember,  gen- 
tlemen, that  stone  walls  have  ears/ 

^  Stone  walls  may  have  ears,'  returned  EUieslaw,  eye- 
ing him  with  a  look  of  triumphant  malignity,  'but 
domestic  spies,  Mr.  Ratcliffe,  will  soon  find  themselves 
without  any,  if  any  such  dares  to  continue  his  abode  in 
a  family  where  his  coming  was  an  unauthorised  intru- 
sion, where  his  conduct  has  been  that  of  a  presumptu- 
ous meddler,  and  from  which  his  exit  shall  be  that  of  a 
baffled  knave,  if  he  does  not  know  how  to  take  a  hint.' 

'Mr.  Vere,'  returned  RatcliJffe,  with  calm  contempt, 

am  fully  aware  that,  as  soon  as  my  presence  becomes 
useless  to  you,  which  it  must  through  the  rash  step  you 
are  about  to  adopt,  it  will  immediately  become  unsafe 
to  myself,  as  it  has  always  been  hateful  to  you.  But  I 
have  one  protection,  and  it  is  a  strong  one;  for  you 
would  not  willingly  hear  me  detail  before  gentlem.en 
and  men  of  honour  the  singular  circumstances  in  which 
our  connexion  took  its  rise.  As  to  the  rest,  I  rejoice  at 
its  conclusion;  and,  as  I  think  that  Mr.  Mareschal  and 
some  other  gentlemen  will  guarantee  the  safety  of  my 
ears  and  of  my  throat  —  for  which  last  I  have  more  rea- 
son to  be  apprehensive  —  during  the  course  of  the  night, 
I  shall  not  leave  your  castle  till  to-morrow  morning.' 

'Be  it  so,  sir,'  replied  Mr.  Vere;  'you  are  entirely  safe 
from  my  resentment,  because  you  are  beneath  it,  and 
not  because  I  am  afraid  of  your  disclosing  any  family 
secrets,  although,  for  your  own  sake,  I  warn  you  to  be- 
ware how  you  do  so.  Your  agency  and  intermediation 
can  be  of  little  consequence  to  one  who  will  win  or  lose 

333 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

all,  as  lawful  right  or  unjust  usurpation  shall  succeed 
in  the  struggle  that  is  about  to  ensue.  Farewell,  sir.' 

Ratcliffe  arose  and  cast  upon  him  a  look,  which  Vere 
seemed  to  sustain  with  difficulty,  and,  bowing  to  those 
around  him,  left  the  room. 

This  conversation  made  an  impression  on  many  of  the 
company,  which  Ellieslaw  hastened  to  dispel  by  enter- 
ing upon  the  business  of  the  day.  Their  hasty  delibera- 
tions went  to  organise  an  immediate  insurrection.  El- 
lieslaw, Mareschal,  and  Sir  Frederick  Langley  were 
chosen  leaders,  with  powers  to  direct  their  farther  meas- 
ures. A  place  of  rendezvous  was  appointed,  at  which 
all  agreed  to  meet  early  on  the  ensuing  day,  with  such 
followers  and  friends  to  the  cause  as  each  could  collect 
around  him.  Several  of  the  guests  retired  to  make  the 
necessary  preparations;  and  EUieslaw  made  a  formal 
apology  to  the  others,  who,  with  Westburnflat  and  the 
old  smuggler,  continued  to  ply  the  bottle  stanchly,  for 
leaving  the  head  of  the  table,  as  he  must  necessarily 
hold  a  separate  and  sober  conference  with  the  coadjutors 
whom  they  had  associated  with  him  in  the  command. 
The  apology  was  the  more  readily  accepted  as  he 
prayed  them,  at  the  same  time,  to  continue  to  amuse 
themselves  with  such  refreshments  as  the  cellars  of  the 
castle  afforded.  Shouts  of  applause  followed  their  re- 
treat; and  the  names  of  Vere,  Langley,  and,  above  all, 
of  Mareschal,  were  thundered  forth  in  chorus,  and 
bathed  with  copious  bumpers  repeatedly,  during  the 
remainder  of  the  evening. 

When  the  principal  conspirators  had  retired  into  a 
separate  apartment,  they  gazed  on  each  other  for  a  min- 
ute with  a  sort  of  embarrassment,  which  in  Sir  Fred- 


334 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


erick's  dark  features  amounted  to  an  expression  of  dis- 
contented sullenness.  Mareschal  was  the  first  to  break 
the  pause,  saying,  with  a  loud  burst  of  laughter  — 
'Well!  we  are  fairly  embarked  now,  gentlemen;  vogue  la 
galerel ' 

*  We  may  thank  you  for  the  plunge,'  said  Ellieslaw. 

*  Yes;  but  I  don't  know  how  far  you  will  thank  me,' 
answered  Mareschal,  'when  I  show  you  this  letter  which 
I  received  just  before  we  sat  down.  My  servant  told  me 
it  was  delivered  by  a  man  he  had  never  seen  before,  who 
went  off  at  the  gallop,  after  charging  him  to  put  it  into 
my  own  hand.' 

Ellieslaw  impatiently  opened  the  letter  and  read 
aloud :  — 

Edinburgh,  — 

HoND.  Sir, 

Having  obligations  to  your  family,  which  shall  be 
nameless,  and  learning  that  you  are  one  of  the  company 
of  adventurers  doing  business  for  the  house  of  James 
and  Company,  late  merchants  in  London,  now  in  Dun- 
kirk, I  think  it  right  to  send  you  this  early  and  private 
information  that  the  vessels  you  expected  have  been 
driven  off  the  coast,  without  having  been  able  to  break 
bulk  or  to  land  any  part  of  their  cargo;  and  that  the 
west-country  partners  have  resolved  to  withdraw  their 
name  from  the  firm,  as  it  must  prove  a  losing  concern. 
Having  good  hope  you  will  avail  yourself  of  this  early 
information  to  do  what  is  needful  for  your  own  security, 

I  rest  your  humble  servant,  xt 

'         Nihil  Nameless. 

For  Ralph  Mareschal  of  Mareschal  Wells 
These,  with  care  and  speed. 

335 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

Sir  Frederick's  jaw  dropped  and  his  countenance 
blackened  as  the  letter  was  read,  and  Ellieslaw  ex- 
claimed, 'Why,  this  affects  the  very  mainspring  of  our 
enterprise.  If  the  French  fleet,  with  the  King  on  board, 
has  been  chased  off  by  the  English,  as  this  d — d  scrawl 
seems  to  intimate,  where  are  we?' 

'Just  where  we  were  this  morning,  I  think,'  said  Ma- 
reschal,  still  laughing. 

'Pardon  me,  and  a  truce  to  your  ill-timed  mirth,  Mr. 
Mareschal;  this  morning  we  were  not  committed  pub- 
licly, as  we  now  stand  committed  by  your  own  mad  act, 
when  you  had  a  letter  in  your  pocket  apprising  you  that 
our  undertaking  was  desperate.' 

'Ay,  ay,  I  expected  you  would  say  so.  But,  in  the 
first  place,  my  friend  Nihil  Nameless  and  his  letter  may 
be  all  a  flam;  and,  moreover,  I  would  have  you  know 
that  I  am  tired  of  a  party  that  does  nothing  but  form 
bold  resolutions  over  night,  and  sleep  them  away  with 
their  wine  before  morning.  The  government  are  now 
unprovided  of  men  and  ammunition;  in  a  few  weeks  they 
will  have  enough  of  both.  The  country  is  now  in  a  flame 
against  them;  in  a  few  weeks,  betwixt  the  effects  of  self- 
interest,  of  fear,  and  of  lukewarm  indifference,  which 
are  already  so  visible,  this  first  fervour  will  be  as  cold  as 
Christmas.  So,  as  I  was  determined  to  go  the  vole,  I 
have  taken  care  you  shall  dip  as  deep  as  I.  It  signifies 
nothing  plunging:  you  are  fairly  in  the  bog,  and  must 
struggle  through.' 

'You  are  mistaken  with  respect  to  one  of  us,  Mr. 
Mareschal,'  said  Sir  Frederick  Langley;  and,  applying 
himself  to  the  bell,  he  desired  the  person  who  entered  to 
order  his  servants  and  horses  instantly* 

336 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


'You  must  not  leave  us,  Sir  Frederick/  said  EUies- 
law;  ^we  have  our  musters  to  go  over.' 

'I  will  go  to-night,  Mr.  Vere,'  said  Sir  Frederick,  'and 
write  you  my  intentions  in  this  matter  when  I  am  at 
home.' 

'Ay,'  said  Mareschal,  'and  send  them  by  a  troop  of 
horse  from  Carlisle  to  make  us  prisoners?  Look  ye.  Sir 
Frederick,  I  for  one  will  neither  be  deserted  nor  be- 
trayed; and  if  you  leave  EUieslaw  Castle  to-night,  it 
shall  be  by  passing  over  my  dead  body.' 

'For  shame!  Mareschal,'  said  Mr.  Vere,  'how  can 
you  so  hastily  misinterpret  our  friend's  intentions?  I 
am  sure  Sir  Frederick  can  only  be  jesting  with  us;  for, 
were  he  not  too  honourable  to  dream  of  deserting  the 
cause,  he  cannot  but  remember  the  full  proofs  we  have 
of  his  accession  to  it  and  his  eager  activity  in  advancing 
it.  He  cannot  but  be  conscious,  besides,  that  the  first 
information  will  be  readily  received  by  government,  and 
that,  if  the  question  be  which  can  first  lodge  intelli- 
gence of  the  affair,  we  can  easily  save  a  few  hours  on 
him.' 

'You  should  say  you^  and  not  we,  when  you  talk  of 
priorities  in  such  a  race  of  treachery;  for  my  part,  I 
won't  enter  my  horse  for  such  a  plate,'  said  Mareschal, 
and  added  betwixt  his  teeth,  'A  pretty  pair  of  fellows 
to  trust  a  man's  neck  with!' 

'I  am  not  to  be  intimidated  from  doing  what  I  think 
proper,'  said  Sir  Frederick  Langley;  'and  my  first  step 
shall  be  to  leave  EUieslaw.  I  have  no  reason  to  keep 
faith  with  one  (looking  at  Vere)  who  has  kept  none 
with  me.' 

'In  what  respect?'  said  EUieslaw,  silencing  with  a 
6  337 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

motion  of  his  hand  his  impetuous  kinsman;  'how  have 
I  disappointed  you,  Sir  Frederick?' 

'In  the  nearest  and  most  tender  point;  you  have 
trifled  with  me  concerning  our  proposed  alliance,  which 
you  well  knew  was  the  gage  of  our  political  undertaking. 
This  carrying  off  and  this  bringing  back  of  Miss  Vere, 
the  cold  reception  I  have  met  with  from  her,  and  the  ex- 
cuses with  which  you  cover  it,  I  believe  to  be  mere  eva- 
sions, that  you  may  yourself  retain  possession  of  the 
estates  which  are  hers  by  right,  and  make  me,  in  the 
meanwhile,  a  tool  in  your  desperate  enterprise,  by 
holding  out  hopes  and  expectations  which  you  are  re- 
solved never  to  realise.' 

'Sir  Frederick,  I  protest,  by  all  that  is  sacred — ' 

'I  will  listen  to  no  protestations;  I  have  been  cheated 
with  them  too  long,'  answered  Sir  Frederick. 

'If  you  leave  us,'  said  Ellieslaw,  'you  cannot  but 
know  both  your  ruin  and  ours  is  certain;  all  depends  on 
our  adhering  together.' 

'Leave  me  to  take  care  of  myself,'  returned  the 
knight;  'but  were  what  you  say  true,  I  would  rather 
perish  than  be  fooled  any  farther.' 

'Can  nothing  —  no  surety  —  convince  you  of  my 
sincerity?'  said  Ellieslaw,  anxiously.  'This  morning  I 
should  have  repelled  your  unjust  suspicions  as  an  in- 
sult; but  situated  as  we  now  are  — ' 

'You  feel  yourself  compelled  to  be  sincere?'  retorted 
Sir  Frederick.  'If  you  would  have  me  think  so,  there  is 
but  one  way  to  convince  me  of  it:  let  your  daughter  be- 
stow her  hand  on  me  this  evening.' 

'So  soon?  impossible,'  answered  Vere.  'Think  of  her 
late  alarm,  of  our  present  undertaking.' 

338 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


*I  will  listen  to  nothing  but  to  her  consent,  plighted 
at  the  altar.  You  have  a  chapel  in  the  castle;  Dr. 
Hobbler  is  present  among  the  company;  this  proof  of 
your  good  faith  to-night,  and  we  are  again  joined  in 
heart  and  hand.  If  you  refuse  me  when  it  is  so  much  for 
your  advantage  to  consent,  how  shall  I  trust  you  to- 
morrow, when  I  shall  stand  committed  in  your  under- 
taking and  unable  to  retract?' 

^  And  I  am  to  understand  that,  if  you  can  be  made  my 
son-in-law  to-night,  our  friendship  is  renewed?'  said 
Ellieslaw. 

^Most  infallibly  and  most  inviolably,'  replied  Sir 
Frederick. 

*Then,'  said  Vere,  'though  what  you  ask  is  prema- 
ture, indelicate,  and  unjust  towards  my  character,  yet, 
Sir  Frederick,  give  me  your  hand;  my  daughter  shall  be 
your  wife.' 

'This  night?' 

'This  very  night,^  replied  Ellieslaw,  'before  the  clock 
strikes  twelve.' 

'With  her  own  consent,  I  trust,'  said  Mareschal;  'for 
I  promise  you  both,  gentlemen,  I  will  not  stand  tamely 
by  and  see  any  violence  put  on  the  will  of  my  pretty 
kinswoman.' 

'Another  pest  in  this  hot-headed  fellow,'  muttered 
Ellieslaw;  and  then  aloud,  'With  her  own  consent?  For 
what  do  you  take  me,  Mareschal,  that  you  should  sup- 
pose your  interference  necessary  to  protect  my  daughter 
against  her  father?  Depend  upon  it,  she  has  no  repug- 
nance to  Sir  Frederick  Langley.' 

'Or  rather  to  be  called  Lady  Langley?  Faith,  like 
enough,  there  are  many  women  might  be  of  her  mind; 

339 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


and  I  beg  your  pardon,  but  these  sudden  demands  and 
concessions  alarmed  me  a  little  on  her  account/ 

^It  is  only  the  suddenness  of  the  proposal  that  em- 
barrasses me/  said  Ellieslaw;  ^but  perhaps,  if  she  is 
found  intractable.  Sir  Frederick  will  consider  — ' 

will  consider  nothing,  Mr.  Vere;your  daughter's 
hand  to-night,  or  I  depart,  were  it  at  midnight  —  there 
is  my  ultimatum.' 

'I  embrace  it,'  said  Ellieslaw;  ^and  I  will  leave  you  to 
talk  upon  our  military  preparations,  while  I  go  to  pre- 
pare my  daughter  for  so  sudden  a  change  of  condition.' 

So  saying,  he  left  the  company. 


CHAPTER  XIV 


He  brings  Earl  Osmond  to  receive  my  vows. 

O  dreadful  change  1  for  Tancred,  haughty  Osmond. 

Tancred  and  Sigismunda, 

Mr.  Vere,  whom  long  practice  of  dissimulation  had  en- 
abled to  model  his  very  gait  and  footsteps  to  aid  the 
purposes  of  deception,  walked  along  the  stone  passage 
and  up  the  first  flight  of  steps  towards  Miss  Vere's  apart- 
ment with  the  alert,  firm,  and  steady  pace  of  one  who  is 
bound,  indeed,  upon  important  business,  but  who  en- 
tertains no  doubt  he  can  terminate  his  affairs  satisfac- 
torily. But  when  out  of  hearing  of  the  gentlemen  whom 
he  had  left,  his  step  became  so  slow  and  irresolute  as  to 
correspond  with  his  doubts  and  fears.  At  length  he 
paused  in  an  antechamber  to  collect  his  ideas  and  form 
his  plan  of  argument  before  approaching  his  daughter. 

'In  what  more  hopeless  and  inextricable  dilemma 
was  ever  an  unfortunate  man  involved!'  Such  was  the 
tenor  of  his  reflections.  'If  we  now  fall  to  pieces  by  dis- 
union, there  can  be  little  doubt  that  the  government 
will  take  my  life  as  the  prime  agitator  of  the  insurrec- 
tion. Or,  grant  I  could  stoop  to  save  myself  by  a  hasty 
submission,  am  I  not,  even  in  that  case,  utterly  ruined? 
I  have  broken  irreconcilably  with  Ratcliffe,  and  can 
have  nothing  to  expect  from  that  quarter  but  insult 
and  persecution.  I  must  wander  forth  an  impoverished 
and  dishonoured  man,  without  even  the  means  of  sus- 
taining life,  far  less  wealth  sufficient  to  counterbalance 


341 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


the  infamy  which  my  countrymen,  both  those  whom 
in  the  case  supposed  I  desert  and  those  whom  I  join, 
will  attach  to  the  name  of  the  political  renegade.  It  is 
not  to  be  thought  of.  And  yet,  what  choice  remains 
between  this  lot  and  the  ignominious  scaffold?  Nothing 
can  save  me  but  reconciliation  with  these  men;  and,  to 
accomplish  this,  I  have  promised  to  Langley  that  Isa- 
bella shall  marry  him  ere  midnight,  and  to  Mareschal, 
that  she  shall  do  so  without  compulsion.  I  have  but 
one  remedy  betwixt  me  and  ruin  —  her  consent  to  take 
a  suitor  whom  she  dislikes,  upon  such  short  notice  as 
would  disgust  her  even  were  he  a  favoured  lover.  But 
I  must  trust  to  the  romantic  generosity  of  her  disposi- 
tion; and  let  me  paint  the  necessity  of  her  obedience 
ever  so  strongly,  I  cannot  overcharge  its  reality.' 

Having  finished  this  sad  chain  of  reflections  upon  his 
perilous  condition,  he  entered  his  daughter's  apartment 
with  every  nerve  bent  up  to  the  support  of  the  argu- 
ment which  he  was  about  to  sustain.  Though  a  deceit- 
ful and  ambitious  man,  he  was  not  so  devoid  of  natural 
affection  but  that  he  was  shocked  at  the  part  he  was 
about  to  act,  in  practising  on  the  feelings  of  a  dutiful 
and  affectionate  child;  but  the  recollections  that,  if  he 
succeeded,  his  daughter  would  only  be  trepanned  into 
an  advantageous  match,  and  that,  if  he  failed  he  him- 
self was  a  lost  man,  were  quite  sufl&cient  to  drown  all 
scruples. 

He  found  Miss  Vere  seated  by  the  window  of  her 
dressing-room,  her  head  reclining  on  her  hand,  and 
either  sunk  in  slumber  or  so  deeply  engaged  in  medita- 
tion that  she  did  not  hear  the  noise  he  made  at  his  en- 
trance. He  approached  with  his  features  composed  to  a 


342 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


deep  expression  of  sorrow  and  sympathy,  and,  sitting 
down  beside  her,  solicited  her  attention  by  quietly  tak- 
ing her  hand,  a  motion  which  he  did  not  fail  to  accom- 
pany with  a  deep  sigh. 

'My  father!'  said  Isabella,  with  a  sort  of  start,  which 
expressed  at  least  as  much  fear  as  joy  or  affection. 

*  Yes,  Isabella,'  said  Vere,  'your  unhappy  father,  who 
comes  now  as  a  penitent  to  crave  forgiveness  of  his 
daughter  for  an  injury  done  to  her  in  the  excess  of  his 
affection,  and  then  to  take  leave  of  her  for  ever.' 

'Sir!  Offence  to  me!  Take  leave  for  ever!  What 
does  all  this  mean?'  said  Miss  Vere. 

'Yes,  Isabella,  I  am  serious.  But  first  let  me  ask  you, 
have  you  no  suspicion  that  I  may  have  been  privy  to 
the  strange  chance  which  befell  you  yesterday  morning?' 

'You,  sir?'  answered  Isabella,  stammering  between 
a  consciousness  that  he  had  guessed  her  thoughts  justly 
and  the  shame  as  well  as  fear  which  forbade  her  to  ac- 
knowledge a  suspicion  so  degrading  and  so  unnatural. 

'Yes,'  he  continued,  'your  hesitation  confesses  that 
you  entertained  such  an  opinion,  and  I  have  now  the 
painful  task  of  acknowledging  that  your  suspicions 
have  done  me  no  injustice.  But  listen  to  my  motives. 
In  an  evil  hour  I  countenanced  the  addresses  of  Sir 
Frederick  Langley,  conceiving  it  impossible  that  you 
could  have  any  permanent  objections  to  a  match  where 
the  advantages  were,  in  most  respects,  on  your  side.  In 
a  word,  I  entered  with  him  into  measures  calculated  to 
restore  our  banished  monarch  and  the  independence  of 
my  country.  He  has  taken  advantage  of  my  unguarded 
confidence,  and  now  has  my  life  at  his  disposal.' 

'Your  life,  sir?'  said  Isabella,  faintly. 

343 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


*Yes,  Isabella,'  continued  her  father,  Hhe  life  of  him 
who  gave  life  to  you.  So  soon  as  I  foresaw  the  excesses 
into  which  his  headlong  passion  —  for,  to  do  him  jus- 
tice, I  believe  his  unreasonable  conduct  arises  from  ex- 
cess of  attachment  to  you  —  was  likely  to  hurry  him,  I 
endeavoured,  by  finding  a  plausible  pretext  for  your  ab- 
sence for  some  weeks,  to  extricate  myself  from  the  di- 
lemma in  which  I  am  placed.  For  this  purpose  I  wished, 
in  case  your  objections  to  the  match  continued  insur- 
mountable, to  have  sent  you  privately  for  a  few  months 
to  the  convent  of  your  maternal  aunt  at  Paris.  By  a 
series  of  mistakes  you  have  been  brought  from  the  place 
of  secrecy  and  security  which  I  had  destined  for  your 
temporary  abode.  Fate  has  bafHed  my  last  chance  of 
escape,  and  I  have  only  to  give  you  my  blessing  and 
send  you  from  the  castle  with  Mr.  Ratcliffe,  who  now 
leaves  it;  my  own  fate  will  soon  be  decided.' 

^Good  Heaven,  sir!  can  this  be  possible?'  exclaimed 
Isabella.  ^O,  why  was  I  freed  from  the  restraint  in 
which  you  placed  me?  or  why  did  you  not  impart  your 
pleasure  to  me?' 

'Think  an  instant,  Isabella.  Would  you  have  had 
me  prejudice  in  your  opinion  the  friend  I  was  most  de- 
sirous of  serving,  by  communicating  to  you  the  injur- 
ious eagerness  with  which  he  pursued  his  object?  Could 
I  do  so  honourably,  having  promised  to  assist  his  suit? 
But  it  is  all  over.  I  and  Mareschal  have  made  up  our 
minds  to  die  like  men;  it  only  remains  to  send  you  from 
hence  under  a  safe  escort.' 

'Great  powers!  and  is  there  no  remedy?'  said  the 
terrified  young  woman. 

'None,  my  child,'  answered  Vere,  gently,  'unless 

344 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


one  which  you  would  not  advise  your  father  to  adopt  — 
to  be  the  first  to  betray  his  friends/ 

no!  no!^  she  answered,  abhorrently  yet  hastily, 
as  if  to  reject  the  temptation  which  the  alternative  pre- 
sented to  her.  ^But  is  there  no  other  hope  —  through 
flight,  through  mediation,  through  supplication?  I  will 
bend  my  knee  to  Sir  Frederick!' 

*It  would  be  a  fruitless  degradation;  he  is  determined 
on  his  course,  and  I  am  equally  resolved  to  stand  the 
hazard  of  my  fate.  On  one  condition  only  he  will  turn 
aside  from  his  purpose,  and  that  condition  my  lips  shall 
never  utter  to  you.' 

*Name  it,  I  conjure  you,  my  dear  father!'  exclaimed 
Isabella.  *  What  can  he  ask  that  we  ought  not  to  grant, 
to  prevent  the  hideous  catastrophe  with  which  you  are 
threatened?' 

'That,  Isabella,'  said  Vere,  solemnly,  'you  shall  never 
know  until  your  father's  head  has  rolled  on  the  bloody 
scafifold;  then,  indeed,  you  will  learn  there  was  one  sac- 
rifice by  which  he  might  have  been  saved.' 

'And  why  not  speak  it  now?'  said  Isabella;  'do  you 
fear  I  would  flinch  from  the  sacrifice  of  fortune  for  your 
preservation?  or  would  you  bequeath  me  the  bitter 
legacy  of  life-long  remorse,  so  oft  as  I  shall  think  that 
you  perished  while  there  remained  one  mode  of  prevent- 
ing the  dreadful  misfortune  that  overhangs  you?' 

'  Then,  my  child,'  said  Vere, '  since  you  press  me  to 
name  what  I  would  a  thousand  times  rather  leave  in 
silence,  I  must  inform  you  that  he  will  accept  for  ransom 
nothing  but  your  hand  in  marriage,  and  that  conferred 
before  midnight  this  very  evening!' 

*This  evening,  sir!'  said  the  young  lady,  struck  with 

345 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

horror  at  the  proposal  —  *and  to  such  a  man!  A  man? 
a  monster,  who  could  wish  to  win  the  daughter  by 
threatening  the  life  of  the  father;  it  is  impossible!' 

^  You  say  right,  my  child,'  answered  her  father,  4t  is 
indeed  impossible;  nor  have  I  either  the  right  or  the 
wish  to  exact  such  a  sacrifice.  It  is  the  course  of  nature 
that  the  old  should  die  and  be  forgot,  and  the  young 
should  live  and  be  happy/ 

'My  father  die,  and  his  child  can  save  him!  but  no  — 
no  —  my  dear  father,  pardon  me,  it  is  impossible;  you 
only  wish  to  guide  me  to  your  wishes.  I  know  your  ob- 
ject is  what  you  think  my  happiness,  and  this  dread- 
ful tale  is  only  told  to  influence  my  conduct  and  sub- 
due my  scruples.' 

'My  daughter,'  replied  EUieslaw,  in  a  tone  where 
offended  authority  seemed  to  struggle  with  parental 
affection  —  'my  child  suspects  me  of  inventing  a  false 
tale  to  work  upon  her  feelings!  Even  this  I  must  bear, 
and  even  from  this  unworthy  suspicion  I  must  descend 
to  vindicate  myself.  You  know  the  stainless  honour  of 
your  cousin  Mareschal;  mark  what  I  shall  write  to 
him,  and  judge  from  his  answer  if  the  danger  in  which 
we  stand  is  not  real,  and  whether  I  have  not  used  every 
means  to  avert  it.' 

He  sate  down,  wrote  a  few  lines  hastily  and  handed 
them  to  Isabella,  who,  after  repeated  and  painful  efforts, 
cleared  her  eyes  and  head  sufficiently  to  discern  their 
purport. 

'Dear  cousin,'  said  the  billet,  'I  find  my  daughter,  as 
I  expected,  in  despair  at  the  untimely  and  premature 
urgency  of  Sir  Frederick  Langley.  She  cannot  even 

346 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


comprehend  the  peril  in  which  we  stand,  or  how  much 
we  are  in  his  power.  Use  your  influence  with  him,  for 
Heaven's  sake,  to  modify  proposals  to  the  acceptance 
of  which  I  cannot,  and  will  not,  urge  my  child  against 
all  her  own  feelings,  as  well  as  those  of  delicacy  and 
propriety,  and  oblige  your  loving  cousin,        R.  V.' 

In  the  agitation  of  the  moment,  when  her  swimming 
eyes  and  dizzy  brain  could  hardly  comprehend  the 
sense  of  what  she  looked  upon,  it  is  not  surprising  that 
Miss  Vere  should  have  omitted  to  remark  that  this  let- 
ter seemed  to  rest  her  scruples  rather  upon  the  form  and 
time  of  the  proposed  union  than  on  a  rooted  dislike  to 
the  suitor  proposed  to  her.  Mr.  Vere  rang  the  bell  and 
gave  the  letter  to  a  servant  to  be  delivered  to  Mr.  Ma- 
reschal,  and,  rising  from  his  chair,  continued  to  traverse 
the  apartment  in  silence  and  in  great  agitation  until 
the  answer  was  returned.  He  glanced  it  over,  and 
wrung  the  hand  of  his  daughter  as  he  gave  it  to  her.  The 
tenor  was  as  follows:  — 

^My  dear  Kinsman —  I  have  already  urged  the 
knight  on  the  point  you  mention,  and  I  find  him  as 
fixed  as  Cheviot.  I  am  truly  sorry  my  fair  cousin  should 
be  pressed  to  give  up  any  of  her  maidenly  rights.  Sir 
Frederick  consents,  however,  to  leave  the  castle  with 
me  the  instant  the  ceremony  is  performed,  and  we  will 
raise  our  followers  and  begin  the  fray.  Thus  there  is 
great  hope  the  bridegroom  may  be  knocked  on  the  head 
before  he  and  the  bride  can  meet  again,  so  Bell  has  a 
fair  chance  to  be  Lady  Langley  d  tres  hon  marcM,  For 
the  rest,  I  can  only  say  that,  if  she  can  make  up  her 

347 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


mind  to  the  alliance  at  all  —  it  is  no  time  for  mere 
maiden  ceremony — my  pretty  cousin  must  needs  con- 
sent to  marry  in  haste,  or  we  shall  all  repent  at  leisure, 
or  rather  have  very  Uttle  leisure  to  repent;  which  is  all 
at  present  from  him  who  rests  your  affectionate  kins- 
man, R.  M.' 

'P.S.  — Tell  Isabella  that  I  would  rather  cut  the 
knight's  throat  after  all,  and  end  the  dilemma  that  way, 
than  see  her  constrained  to  marry  him  against  her  will/ 

When  Isabella  had  read  this  letter  it  dropped  from 
her  hand,  and  she  would,  at  the  same  time,  have  fallen 
from  her  chair,  had  she  not  been  supported  by  her 
father. 

^My  God,  my  child  will  die!'  exclaimed  Vere,  the 
feelings  of  nature  overcoming,  even  in  his  breast,  the 
sentiments  of  selfish  policy;  ^look  up,  Isabella  —  look 
up,  my  child ;  come  what  will,  you  shall  not  be  the  sacri- 
fice. I  will  fall  myself  with  the  consciousness  I  leave 
you  happy.  My  child  may  weep  on  my  grave,  but  she 
shall  not  —  not  in  this  instance  —  reproach  my  mem- 
ory.' He  called  a  servant.  ^Go,  bid  Ratcliffe  come 
hither  directly.' 

During  this  interval  Miss  Vere  became  deadly  pale, 
clenched  her  hands,  pressing  the  palms  strongly  to- 
gether, closed  her  eyes,  and  drew  her  lips  with  strong 
compression,  as  if  the  severe  constraint  which  she  put 
upon  her  internal  feelings  extended  even  to  her  muscu- 
lar organization.  Then  raising  her  head  and  drawing  in 
her  breath  strongly  ere  she  spoke,  she  said,  with  firm- 
ness, 'Father,  I  consent  to  the  marriage.' 

^  You  shall  not  —  you  shall  not;  my  child  —  my  dear 

348 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


child,  you  shall  not  embrace  certain  misery  to  free  me 
from  uncertain  danger.'  So  exclaimed  Ellieslaw;  and, 
strange  and  inconsistent  beings  that  we  are!  he  ex- 
pressed the  real  though  momentary  feelings  of  his  heart. 

'Father/  repeated  Isabella,  'I  will  consent  to  this 
marriage.' 

'No,  my  child,  no;  not  now  at  least.  We  will  humble 
ourselves  to  obtain  delay  from  him ;  and  yet,  Isabella, 
could  you  overcome  a  dislike  which  has  no  real  founda- 
tion, think,  in  other  respects,  what  a  match!  —  wealth, 
rank,  importance.' 

'Father!'  reiterated  Isabella,  'I  have  consented.' 

It  seemed  as  if  she  had  lost  the  power  of  saying  any- 
thing else,  or  even  of  varying  the  phrase  which,  with 
such  effort,  she  had  compelled  herself  to  utter. 

'Heaven  bless  thee,  my  child!  —  Heaven  bless  thee! 
And  it  will  bless  thee  with  riches,  with  pleasure,  with 
power.' 

Miss  Vere  faintly  entreated  to  be  left  by  herself  for 
the  rest  of  the  evening. 

'But  will  you  not  receive  Sir  Frederick?^  said  her 
father,  anxiously. 

'I  will  meet  him,'  she  replied  —  'I  will  meet  him  — 
when  I  must,  and  where  I  must;  but  spare  me  now.' 

'Be  it  so,  my  dearest;  you  shall  know  no  restraint 
that  I  can  save  you  from.  Do  not  think  too  hardly  of 
Sir  Frederick  for  this;  it  is  an  excess  of  passion.' 

Isabella  waved  her  hand  impatiently. 

'Forgive  me,  my  child;  I  go.  Heaven  bless  thee!  At 
eleven  —  if  you  call  me  not  before  —  at  eleven  I  come 
to  seek  you.' 

When  he  left  Isabella  she  dropped  upon  her  knees.  — 
349 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

'Heaven  aid  me  to  support  the  resolution  I  have  taken, 
Heaven  only  can!  O,  poor  Earnscliff !  who  shall  comfort 
him?  and  with  what  contempt  will  he  pronounce  her 
name  who  listened  to  him  to-day  and  gave  herself  to 
another  at  night!  But  let  him  despise  me,  better  so 
than  that  he  should  know  the  truth.  Let  him  despise 
me;  if  it  will  but  lessen  his  grief,  I  should  feel  comfort 
in  the  loss  of  his  esteem.' 

She  wept  bitterly;  attempting  in  vain,  from  time  to 
time,  to  commence  the  prayer  for  which  she  had  sunk 
on  her  knees,  but  unable  to  calm  her  spirits  sufl&ciently 
for  the  exercise  of  devotion.  As  she  remained  in  this 
agony  of  mind  the  door  of  her  apartment  was  slowly 
opened. 


CHAPTER  XV 


The  darksome  cave  they  enter,  where  they  found 
The  woful  man,  low  sitting  on  the  ground, 
Musing  full  sadly  in  his  sullen  mind. 

Faerie  Queetu 

iHE  intruder  on  Miss  Vere's  sorrows  was  Ratcliffe. 
Ellieslaw  had,  in  the  agitation  of  his  mind,  forgotten  to 
countermand  the  order  he  had  given  to  call  him  thither, 
so  that  he  opened  the  door  with  the  words,  'You  sent 
for  me,  Mr.  Vere/  Then  looking  around  —  'Miss  Vera, 
alone !  on  the  groimd !  and  in  tears ! ' 

'Leave  me  —  leave  me,  Mr.  Ratcliffe,'  said  the  un- 
happy young  lady. 

'I  must  not  leave  you,'  said  Ratcliffe;  'I  have  been 
repeatedly  requesting  admittance  to  take  my  leave  of 
you,  and  have  been  refused,  until  your  father  himself 
sent  for  me.  Blame  me  not  if  I  am  bold  and  intrusive;  I 
have  a  duty  to  discharge  which  makes  me  so.' 

'I  cannot  listen  to  you,  I  cannot  speak  to  you,  Mr. 
Ratcliffe;  take  my  best  wishes,  and  for  God's  sake  leave 
me.' 

'Tell  me  only,'  said  Ratcliffe,  'is  it  true  that  this  mon- 
strous match  is  to  go  forward,  and  this  very  night?  I 
heard  the  servants  proclaim  it  as  I  was  on  the  great 
staircase;  I  heard  the  directions  given  to  clear  out  the 
chapel.' 

'Spare  me,  Mr.  Ratcliffe,'  replied  the  luckless  bride; 
^and,  from  the  state  in  which  you  see  me,  judge  of  the 
cruelty  of  these  questions.' 

351 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


'Married!  to  Sir  Frederick  Langley!  and  this  night! 
It  must  not  —  cannot  —  shall  not  be.' 

'It  must  be,  Mr.  Ratcliffe,  or  my  father  is  ruined.' 

'Ah!  I  understand/  answered  Ratcliffe;  'and  you 
have  sacrificed  yourself  to  save  him  who  —  But  let  the 
virtue  of  the  child  atone  for  the  faults  of  the  father;  it 
is  no  time  to  rake  them  up.  What  can  be  done?  Time 
presses.  I  know  but  one  remedy;  with  four-and-twenty 
hours  I  might  find  many.  Miss  Vere,  you  must  implore 
the  protection  of  the  only  human  being  who  has  it  in  his 
power  to  control  the  course  of  events  which  threatens 
to  hurry  you  before  it.' 

'And  what  human  being,'  answered  Miss  Vere,  'has 
such  power?' 

'Start  not  when  I  name  him,'  said  Ratcliffe,  coming 
near  her,  and  speaking  in  a  low  but  distinct  voice.  'It 
is  he  who  is  called  Elshender,  the  Recluse  of  Muckle- 
stane  Moor.' 

'You  are  mad,  Mr.  Ratcliffe,  or  you  mean  to  insult 
my  misery  by  an  ill-timed  jest! ' 

'I  am  as  much  in  my  senses,  young  lady,'  answered 
her  adviser,  'as  you  are;  and  I  am  no  idle  jester,  far  less 
with  misery,  least  of  all  with  your  misery.  I  swear  to 
you  that  this  being,  who  is  other  far  than  what  he  seems, 
actually  possesses  the  means  of  redeeming  you  from 
this  hateful  union.' 

'And  of  ensuring  my  father's  safety?' 

'Yes!  even  that,'  said  Ratcliffe,  'if  you  plead  his 
cause  with  him.  Yet  how  to  obtain  admittance  to  the 
Recluse!' 

'Fear  not  that,'  said  Miss  Vere,  suddenly  recollect- 
ing the  incident  of  the  rose;  'I  remember  he  desired  me 


3S2 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


to  call  upon  him  for  aid  in  my  extremity,  and  gave  me 
this  flower  as  a  token.  Ere  it  faded  away  entirely,  I 
would  need,  he  said,  his  assistance;  is  it  possible  his 
words  can  have  been  aught  but  the  ravings  of  in- 
sanity?' 

'Doubt  it  not,  fear  it  not;  but  above  all,'  said  Rat- 
cliffe,  'let  us  lose  no  time.  Are  you  at  liberty  and  un- 
watched? ' 

'I  believe  so/  said  Isabella;  'but  what  would  you  have 
me  to  do?' 

'Leave  the  castle  instantly,'  said  Ratcliffe,  'and 
throw  yourself  at  the  feet  of  this  extraordinary  man, 
who,  in  circumstances  that  seem  to  argue  the  extrem- 
ity of  the  most  contemptible  poverty,  possesses  yet  an 
almost  absolute  influence  over  your  fate.  Guests  and 
servants  are  deep  in  their  carouse,  the  leaders  sitting 
in  conclave  on  their  treasonable  schemes.  My  horse 
stands  ready  in  the  stable;  I  will  saddle  one  for  you, 
and  meet  you  at  the  little  garden  gate.  0,  let  no  doubt 
of  my  prudence  or  fidelity  prevent  your  taking  the  only 
step  in  your  power  to  escape  the  dreadful  fate  which 
must  attend  the  wife  of  Sir  Frederick  Langley!' 

'Mr.  Ratcliffe,'  said  Miss  Vere,  'you  have  always 
been  esteemed  a  man  of  honour  and  probity,  and  a 
drowning  wretch  will  always  catch  at  the  feeblest  twig: 
I  will  trust  you,  I  will  follow  your  advice,  I  will  meet 
you  at  the  garden  gate.' 

She  bolted  the  outer  door  of  her  apartment  as  soon 
as  Mr.  Ratcliffe  left  her,  and  descended  to  the  garden 
by  a  separate  stair  of  communication  which  opened  to 
her  dressing-room.  On  the  way  she  felt  inclined  to  re- 
tract the  consent  she  had  so  hastily  given  to  a  plan  so 

6  353 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


hopeless  and  extravagant.  But  as  she  passed  in  her 
descent  a  private  door  which  entered  into  the  chapel 
from  the  backstair,  she  heard  the  voice  of  the  female 
servants  as  they  were  employed  in  the  task  of  cleaning 
it. 

^Married!  and  to  sae  bad  a  man.  Ewhow,  sirs!  ony 
thing  rather  than  that.' 

^They  are  right. —  they  are  right/  said  Miss  Vere; 
'anything  rather  than  that!' 

She  hurried  to  the  garden.  Mr.  Ratcliffe  was  true  to 
his  appointment:  the  horses  stood  saddled  at  the  garden 
gate,  and  in  a  few  minutes  they  were  advancing  rapidly 
towards  the  hut  of  the  Solitary. 

While  the  ground  was  favourable  the  speed  of  their 
journey  was  such  as  to  prevent  much  communication; 
but  when  a  steep  ascent  compelled  them  to  slacken  their 
pace,  a  new  cause  of  apprehension  occurred  to  Miss 
Vere's  mind. 

'Mr.  Ratcliffe,'  she  said,  pulling  up  her  horse's  bridle, 
'let  us  prosecute  no  further  a  journey  which  nothing 
but  the  extreme  agitation  of  my  mind  can  vindicate  my 
having  undertaken.  I  am  well  aware  that  this  man 
passes  among  the  vulgar  as  being  possessed  of  super- 
natural powers,  and  carrying  on  an  intercourse  with 
beings  of  another  world;  but  I  would  have  you  aware 
I  am  neither  to  be  imposed  on  by  such  follies,  nor,  were 
I  to  believe  in  their  existence,  durst  I,  with  my  feelings 
of  reUgion,  apply  to  this  being  in  my  distress.' 

'I  should  have  thought.  Miss  Vere,'  replied  Ratcliffe, 
'my  character  and  habits  of  thinking  were  so  well 
known  to  you  that  you  might  have  held  me  exculpated 
from  crediting  in  such  absurdity.' 

354 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


*But  in  what  other  mode/  said  Isabella,  'can  a  being 
so  miserable  himself  in  appearance  possess  the  power 
of  assisting  me? ' 

'Miss  Vere/  said  Ratcliffe,  after  a  momentary  pause, 
'I  am  bound  by  a  solemn  oath  of  secrecy.  You  must, 
without  farther  explanation,  be  satisfied  with  my 
pledged  assurance  that  he  does  possess  the  power,  if  you 
can  inspire  him  with  the  will;  and  that,  I  doubt  not, 
you  will  be  able  to  do.' 

'Mr.  Ratcliffe,'  said  Miss  Vere,  'you  may  yourself 
be  mistaken;  you  ask  an  unlimited  degree  of  confidence 
from  me.' 

'Recollect,  Miss  Vere,'  he  replied,  'that  when,  in 
your  humanity,  you  asked  me  to  interfere  with  your 
father  in  favour  of  Haswell  and  his  ruined  family  — 
when  you  requested  me  to  prevail  on  him  to  do  a  thing 
most  abhorrent  to  his  nature,  to  forgive  an  injury  and 
remit  a  penalty  —  I  stipulated  that  you  should  ask  me 
no  questions  concerning  the  sources  of  my  influence. 
You  found  no  reason  to  distrust  me  then,  do  not  dis- 
trust me  now.' 

'But  the  extraordinary  mode  of  hfe  of  this  man,'  said 
Miss  Vere;  'his  seclusion,  his  figure,  the  deepness  of 
misanthropy  which  he  is  said  to  express  in  his  language. 
Mr.  Ratcliffe,  what  can  I  think  of  him  if  he  really  pos- 
sesses the  powers  you  ascribe  to  him?' 

'This  man,  young  lady,  was  bred  a  Catholic,  a  sect 
which  affords  a  thousand  instances  of  those  who  have 
retired  from  power  and  affluence  to  voluntary  privations 
more  strict  even  than  his.' 

'But  he  avows  no  religious  motive,'  replied  Miss  Vere. 

'No,'  replied  Ratcliffe;  'disgust  with  the  world  has 

3SS 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

operated  his  retreat  from  it  without  assuming  the  veil 
of  superstition.  Thus  far  I  may  tell  you  —  he  was  born 
to  great  wealth,  which  his  parents  designed  should  be- 
come greater  by  his  union  with  a  kinswoman,  whom  for 
that  purpose  they  bred  up  in  their  own  house.  You  have 
seen  his  figure;  judge  what  the  young  lady  must  have 
thought  of  the  lot  to  which  she  was  destined.  Yet, 
habituated  to  his  appearance,  she  showed  no  reluctance, 
and  the  friends  of  —  of  the  person  whom  I  speak  of, 
doubted  not  that  the  excess  of  his  attachment,  the  va- 
rious acquisitions  of  his  mind,  his  many  and  amiable 
qualities,  had  overcome  the  natural  horror  which  his 
destined  bride  must  have  entertained  at  an  exterior 
so  dreadfully  inauspicious.' 

'And  did  they  judge  truly?'  said  Isabella. 

'You  shall  hear.  He,  at  least,  was  fully  aware  of  his 
own  deficiency;  the  sense  of  it  haunted  him  like  a  phan- 
tom, am,"  was  his  own  expression  to  me  —  I  mean 
to  a  man  whom  he  trusted  —  I  am,  in  spite  of  what  you 
would  say,  a  poor  miserable  outcast,  fitter  to  have  been 
smothered  in  the  cradle  than  to  have  been  brought  up 
to  scare  the  world  in  which  I  crawl."  The  person  whom 
he  addressed  in  vain  endeavoured  to  impress  him  with 
the  indifference  to  external  form  which  is  the  natural 
result  of  philosophy,  or  entreat  him  to  recall  the  super- 
iority of  mental  talents  to  the  more  attractive  attri- 
butes that  are  merely  personal.  hear  you,"  he  would 
reply;  '*but  you  speak  the  voice  of  cold-blooded  stoic- 
ism, or,  at  least,  of  friendly  partiality.  But  look  at  every 
book  which  we  have  read,  those  excepted  of  that  ab- 
stract philosophy  which  feels  no  responsive  voice  in 
our  natural  feelings.  Is  not  personal  form,  such  as  at 

3S6 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


least  can  be  tolerated  without  horror  and  disgust,  al- 
ways represented  as  essential  to  our  ideas  of  a  friend, 
far  more  a  lover?  Is  not  such  a  misshapen  monster  as  I 
am  excluded,  by  the  very  fiat  of  Nature,  from  her  fairest 
enjoyments?  What  but  my  wealth  prevents  all  —  per- 
haps even  Letitia  or  you  —  from  shunning  me  as  some- 
thing foreign  to  your  nature,  and  more  odious  by  bear- 
ing that  distorted  resemblance  to  humanity  which  we 
observe  in  the  animal  tribes  that  are  more  hateful  to 
man  because  they  seem  his  caricature?"' 

*  You  repeat  the  sentiments  of  a  madman,'  said  Miss 
Vere. 

'No,' replied  her  conductor,  'unless  a  morbid  and  ex- 
cessive sensibility  on  such  a  subject  can  be  termed  in- 
sanity. Yet  I  will  not  deny  that  this  governing  feeling 
and  apprehension  carried  the  person  who  entertained 
it  to  lengths  which  indicated  a  deranged  imagination. 
He  appeared  to  think  that  it  was  necessary  for  him, 
by  exuberant  and  not  always  well-chosen  instances  of 
liberality,  and  even  profusion,  to  unite  himself  to  the 
human  race,  from  which  he  conceived  himself  naturally 
dissevered.  The  benefits  which  he  bestowed,  from  a 
disposition  naturally  philanthropical  in  an  uncommon 
degree,  were  exaggerated  by  the  influence  of  the  goading 
reflection  that  more  was  necessary  from  him  than  from 
others  —  lavishing  his  treasures  as  if  to  bribe  mankind 
to  receive  him  into  their  class.  It  is  scarcely  necessary 
to  say  that  the  bounty  which  flowed  from  a  source  so 
capricious  was  often  abused,  and  his  confidence  fre- 
quently betrayed.  These  disappointments,  which  occur 
to  all  more  or  less,  and  most  to  such  as  confer  benefits 
without  just  discrimination,  his  diseased  fancy  set  down 

357 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


to  the  hatred  and  contempt  excited  by  his  personal  de- 
formity. But  I  fatigue  you,  Miss  Vere?' 

'No,  by  no  means;  I  —  I  could  not  prevent  my 
attention  from  wandering  an  instant;  pray  proceed.' 

'He  became  at  length,'  continued  Ratcliffe,  'the  most 
ingenious  self- tormentor  of  whom  I  have  ever  heard;  the 
scoff  of  the  rabble,  and  the  sneer  of  the  yet  more  brutal 
vulgar  of  his  own  rank,  was  to  him  agony  and  breaking 
on  the  wheel.  He  regarded  the  laugh  of  the  common 
people  whom  he  passed  on  the  street,  and  the  suppressed 
titter,  or  yet  more  offensive  terror,  of  the  young  girls  to 
whom  he  was  introduced  in  company,  as  proofs  of  the 
true  sense  which  the  world  entertained  of  him,  as  a 
prodigy  unfit  to  be  received  among  them  on  the  usual 
terms  of  society,  and  as  vindicating  the  wisdom  of  his 
purpose  in  withdrawing  himself  from  among  them.  On 
the  faith  and  sincerity  of  two  persons  alone  he  seemed 
to  rely  implicitly  —  on  that  of  his  betrothed  bride  and  of 
a  friend  eminently  gifted  in  personal  accomplishments, 
who  seemed,  and  indeed  probably  was,  sincerely  at- 
tached to  him.  He  ought  to  have  been  so  at  least,  for 
he  was  literally  loaded  with  benefits  by  him  whom  you 
are  now  about  to  see.  The  parents  of  the  subject  of  my 
story  died  within  a  short  space  of  each  other.  Their 
death  postponed  the  marriage,  for  which  the  day  had 
been  fixed.  The  lady  did  not  seem  greatly  to  mourn  this 
delay,  perhaps  that  was  not  to  have  been  expected;  but 
she  intimated  no  change  of  intention  when,  after  a  decent 
interval,  a  second  day  was  named  for  their  union.  The 
friend  of  whom  I  spoke  was  then  a  constant  resident  at 
the  Hall.  In  an  evil  hour,  at  the  earnest  request  and 
entreaty  of  this  friend,  they  joined  a  general  party,  where 

358 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 

men  of  different  political  opinions  were  mingled,  and 
where  they  drank  deep.  A  quarrel  ensued;  the  friend  of 
the  Recluse  drew  his  sword  with  others,  and  was  thrown 
down  .and  disarmed  by  a  more  powerful  antagonist. 
They  fell  in  the  struggle  at  the  feet  of  the  Recluse,  who, 
maimed  and  truncated  as  his  form  appears,  possesses, 
nevertheless,  great  strength,  as  well  as  violent  passions. 
He  caught  up  a  sword,  pierced  the  heart  of  his  friend's 
antagonist,  was  tried,  and  his  life,  with  difficulty, 
redeemed  from  justice  at  the  expense  of  a  year's  close 
imprisonment,  the  punishment  of  manslaughter.  The 
incident  affected  him  most  deeply,  the  more  that  the 
deceased  was  a  man  of  excellent  character,  and  had 
sustained  gross  insult  and  injury  ere  he  drew  his  sword. 
I  think,  from  that  moment,  I  observed  —  I  beg  pardon 
—  the  fits  of  morbid  sensibility  which  had  tormented 
this  unfortunate  gentleman  were  rendered  henceforth 
more  acute  by  remorse,  which  he,  of  all  men,  was  least 
capable  of  having  incurred,  or  of  sustaining  when  it 
became  his  unhappy  lot.  His  paroxysms  of  agony  could 
not  be  concealed  from  the  lady  to  whom  he  was  be- 
trothed; and  it  must  be  confessed  they  were  of  an  alarm- 
ing and  fearful  nature.  He  comforted  himself  that,  at 
the  expiry  of  his  imprisonment,  he  could  form  with  his 
wife  and  friend  a  society,  encircled  by  which  he  might 
dispense  with  more  extensive  communication  with  the 
world.  He  was  deceived;  before  that  term  elapsed  his 
friend  and  his  betrothed  bride  were  man  and  wife.  The 
effects  of  a  shock  so  dreadful  on  an  ardent  temperament, 
a  disposition  already  soured  by  bitter  remorse,  and 
loosened  by  the  indulgence  of  a  gloomy  imagination 
from  the  rest  of  mankind,  I  cannot  describe  to  you;  it 

359 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

was  as  if  the  last  cable  at  which  the  vessel  rode  had 
suddenly  parted,  and  left  her  abandoned  to  all  the 
wild  fury  of  the  tempest.  He  was  placed  under  med- 
ical restraint.  As  a  temporary  measure  this  might 
have  been  justifiable;  but  his  hard-hearted  friend,  who, 
in  consequence  of  his  marriage,  was  now  his  nearest 
ally,  prolonged  his  confinement  in  order  to  enjoy  the 
management  of  his  immense  estates.  There  was  one  who 
owed  his  all  to  the  sufferer,  an  humble  friend,  but  grate- 
ful and  faithful.  By  unceasing  exertion  and  repeated 
invocation  of  justice,  he  at  length  succeeded  in  obtaining 
his  patron's  freedom  and  reinstatement  in  the  manage- 
ment of  his  own  property,  to  which  was  soon  added  that 
of  his  intended  bride,  who  having  died  without  male 
issue,  her  estates  reverted  to  him,  as  heir  of  entail.  But 
freedom  and  wealth  were  unable  to  restore  the  equipoise 
of  his  mind:  to  the  former  his  grief  made  him  indifferent; 
the  latter  only  served  him  as  far  as  it  afforded  him  the 
means  of  indulging  his  strange  and  wayward  fancy.  He 
had  renounced  the  Catholic  religion,  but  perhaps  some 
of  its  doctrines  continued  to  influence  a  mind  over  which 
remorse  and  misanthropy  now  assumed,  in  appearance, 
an  unbounded  authority.  His  life  has  since  been  that 
alternately  of  a  pilgrim  and  a  hermit,  suffering  the  most 
severe  privations,  not  indeed  in  ascetic  devotion,  but  in 
abhorrence  of  mankind.  Yet  no  man's  words  and  ac- 
tions have  been  at  such  a  wide  difference,  nor  has  any 
hypocritical  wretch  ever  been  more  ingenious  in  assign- 
ing good  motives  for  his  vile  actions  than  this  unfort- 
unate in  reconciling  to  his  abstract  principles  of  mis- 
anthropy a  conduct  which  flows  from  his  natural  gener- 
osity and  kindness  of  feeling.' 

360 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


*  Still,  Mr.  Ratcliffe  —  still  you  describe  the  incon- 
sistencies of  a  madman.' 

^By  no  means/  replied  Ratcliflfe.  'That  the  imagina- 
tion of  this  gentleman  is  disordered,  I  will  n6t  pretend  to 
dispute;  I  have  already  told  you  that  it  has  sometimes 
broken  out  into  paroxysms  approaching  to  real  mental 
alienation.  But  it  is  of  his  common  state  of  mind  that 
I  speak;  it  is  irregular,  but  not  deranged;  the  shades  are 
as  gradual  as  those  that  divide  the  light  of  noonday  from 
midnight.  The  courtier  who  ruins  his  fortune  for  the  at- 
tainment of  a  title  which  can  do  him  no  good,  or  power 
of  which  he  can  make  no  suitable  or  creditable  use,  the 
miser  who  hoards  his  useless  wealth,  and  the  prodigal 
who  squanders  it,  are  all  marked  with  a  certain  shade 
of  insanity.  To  criminals  who  are  guilty  of  enormities, 
when  the  temptation,  to  a  sober  mind,  bears  no  pro- 
portion to  the  horror  of  the  act,  or  the  probability  of 
detection  and  punishment,  the  same  observation  applies; 
and  every  violent  passion,  as  well  as  anger,  may  be 
termed  a  short  madness.' 

'This  may  be  all  good  philosophy,  Mr.  Ratcliffe,' 
answered  Miss  Vere;  'but,  excuse  me,  it  by  no  means 
emboldens  me  to  visit  at  this  late  hour  a  person  whose 
extravagance  of  imagination  you  yourself  can  only 
palliate.' 

'Rather,  then,'  said  Ratcliffe,  'receive  my  solemn  as- 
surances that  you  do  not  incur  the  slightest  danger.  But 
what  I  have  been  hitherto  afraid  to  mention  for  fear  of 
alarming  you  is,  that  now  when  we  are  within  sight 
of  his  retreat,  for  I  can  discover  it  through  the  twilight, 
I  must  go  no  farther  with  you;  you  must  proceed 
alone.' 

361 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


'Alone?  I  dare  not/ 

*You  must/  continued  Ratcliffe.  *I  will  remain  here 
and  wait  for  you.' 

*You  will  not,  then,  stir  from  this  place,'  said  Miss 
Vere;  ^yet  the  distance  is  so  great,  you  could  not  hear 
me  were  I  to  cry  for  assistance.' 

^Fear  nothing,'  said  her  guide;  *or  observe,  at  least, 
the  utmost  caution  in  stifling  every  expression  of  timid- 
ity. Remember  that  his  predominant  and  most  harass- 
ing apprehension  arises  from  a  consciousness  of  the  hide- 
ousness  of  his  appearance.  Your  path  lies  straight  be- 
side yon  half-fallen  willow;  keep  the  left  side  of  it,  the 
marsh  lies  on  the  right.  Farewell  for  a  time.  Remember 
the  evil  you  are  threatened  with,  and  let  it  overcome  at 
once  your  fears  and  scruples.' 

^Mr.  Ratcliffe/  said  Isabella,  'farewell;  if  you  have 
deceived  one  so  unfortunate  as  myself,  you  have  for 
ever  forfeited  the  fair  character  for  probity  and  honour 
to  which  I  have  trusted.' 

'On  my  Hfe  —  on  my  soul,'  continued  Ratcliffe,  rais- 
ing his  voice  as  the  distance  between  them  increased, 
'you  are  safe  —  perfectly  safe.' 


CHAPTER  XVI 


was  time  and  griefs 
That  framed  him  thus.  Time,  with  his  fairer  hand, 
Offering  the  fortunes  of  his  former  days, 
The  former  man  may  make  him.  Bring  us  to  him, 
And  chance  it  as  it  may. 

Old  Play. 

The  sounds  of  Ratcliffe's  voice  had  died  on  Isabella's 
ear;  but,  as  she  frequently  looked  back,  it  was  some  en- 
couragement to  her  to  discern  his  form,  now  darkening 
in  the  gloom.  Ere,  however,  she  went  much  farther,  she 
lost  the  object  in  the  increasing  shade.  The  last  glim- 
mer of  the  twilight  placed  her  before  the  hut  of  the 
Solitary.  She  twice  extended  her  hand  to  the  door,  and 
twice  she  withdrew  it;  and  when  she  did  at  length  make 
the  effort,  the  knock  did  not  equal  in  violence  the  throb 
of  her  own  bosom.  Her  next  effort  was  louder;  her  third 
was  reiterated,  for  the  fear  of  not  obtaining  the  pro- 
tection from  which  Ratcliffe  promised  so  much  began 
to  overpower  the  terrors  of  his  presence  from  whom  she 
was  to  request  it.  At  length,  as  she  still  received  no 
answer,  she  repeatedly  called  upon  the  Dwarf  by  his 
assumed  name,  and  requested  him  to  answer  and  open  to 
her. 

*What  miserable  being  is  reduced,'  said  the  appall- 
ing voice  of  the  Solitary,  ^  to  seek  refuge  here?  Go  hence; 
when  the  heath-fowl  need  shelter,  they  seek  it  not  in  the 
nest  of  the  night-raven.' 

'I  come  to  you,  father,'  said  Isabella,  'in  my  hour  of 
adversity,  even  as  you  yourself  commanded,  when  you 

363 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


promised  your  heart  and  your  door  should  be  open  to 
my  distress;  but  I  fear  —  ^ 

*Ha!'  said  the  Solitary,  Hhen  thou  art  Isabella  Vere? 
Give  me  a  token  that  thou  art  she/ 

^ I  have  brought  you  back  the  rose  which  you  gave  me; 
it  has  not  had  time  to  fade  ere  the  hard  fate  you  fore- 
told has  come  upon  me!' 

^  And  if  thou  hast  thus  redeemed  thy  pledge/  said  the 
Dwarf,  *  I  will  not  forfeit  mine.  The  heart  and  the  door 
that  are  shut  against  every  other  earthly  being  shall  be 
open  to  thee  and  to  thy  sorrows.' 

She  heard  him  move  in  his  hut,  and  presently  after- 
wards strike  a  light.  One  by  one,  bolt  and  bar  were  then 
withdrawn,  the  heart  of  Isabella  throbbing  higher  as 
these  obstacles  to  their  meeting  were  successively  re- 
moved. The  door  opened  and  the  Solitary  stood  before 
her,  his  uncouth  form  and  features  illuminated  by  the 
iron  lamp  which  he  held  in  his  hand. 

'Enter,  daughter  of  affliction,'  he  said  —  'enter  the 
house  of  misery.' 

She  entered,  and  observed,  with  a  precaution  which 
increased  her  trepidation,  that  the  Recluse's  first  act, 
after  setting  the  lamp  upon  the  table,  was  to  replace  the 
numerous  bolts  which  secured  the  door  of  his  hut.  She 
shrunk  as  she  heard  the  noise  which  accompanied  this 
ominous  operation,  yet  remembered  Ratcliffe's  caution, 
and  endeavoured  to  suppress  all  appearance  of  appre- 
hension. The  light  of  the  lamp  was  weak  and  uncertain; 
but  the  Solitary,  without  taking  immediate  notice  of 
Isabella,  otherwise  than  by  motioning  her  to  sit  down 
on  a  small  settle  beside  the  fireplace,  made  haste  to 
kindle  some  dry  furze,  which  presently  cast  a  blaze 

364 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


through  the  cottage.  Wooden  shelves,  which  bore  a 
few  books,  some  bundles  of  dried  herbs,  and  one  or  two 
wooden  cups  and  platters,  were  on  one  side  of  the  fire; 
on  the  other  were  placed  some  ordinary  tools  of  field- 
labour,  mingled  with  those  used  by  mechanics.  Where 
the  bed  should  have  been,  there  was  a  wooden  frame, 
strewed  with  withered  moss  and  rushes,  the  couch  of 
the  ascetic.  The  whole  space  of  the  cottage  did  not 
exceed  ten  feet  by  six  within  the  walls;  and  its  only  fur- 
niture, besides  what  we  have  mentioned,  was  a  table 
and  two  stools  formed  of  rough  deals. 

Within  these  narrow  precincts  Isabella  now  found  her- 
self inclosed  with  a  being  whose  history  had  nothing  to 
reassure  her,  and  the  fearful  conformation  of  whose 
hideous  countenance  inspired  an  almost  superstitious 
terror.  He  occupied  the  seat  opposite  to  her,  and,  drop- 
ping his  huge  and  shaggy  eyebrows  over  his  piercing 
black  eyes,  gazed  at  her  in  silence,  as  if  agitated  by  a 
variety  of  contending  feelings.  On  the  other  side  sate 
Isabella,  pale  as  death,  her  long  hair  uncurled  by  the 
evening  damps,  and  falling  over  her  shoulders  and 
breast,  as  the  wet  streamers  droop  from  the  mast  when 
the  storm  has  passed  away  and  left  the  vessel  stranded 
on  the  beach.  The  Dwarf  first  broke  the  silence  with 
the  sudden,  abrupt,  and  alarming  question  —  'Woman, 
what  evil  fate  has  brought  thee  hither?' 

'My  father's  danger  and  your  own  command/  she 
replied  faintly,  but  firmly. 

'And  you  hope  for  aid  from  me?' 

'If  you  can  bestow  it,'  she  replied,  still  in  the  same 
tone  of  mild  submission. 

'And  how  should  I  possess  that  power? '  continued  the 
36s 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


Dwarf,  with  a  bitter  sneer.  ^Is  mine  the  form  of  a  re- 
dresser  of  wrongs?  Is  this  the  castle  in  which  one  power- 
ful enough  to  be  sued  to  by  a  fair  suppliant  is  likely  to 
hold  his  residence?  I  but  mocked  thee,  girl,  when  I  said 
I  would  relieve  thee/ 

^Then  must  I  depart  and  face  my  fate  as  I  best 
may!' 

'No!'  said  the  Dwarf,  rising  and  interposing  between 
her  and  the  door,  and  motioning  to  her  sternly  to  re- 
sume her  seat  —  'no!  you  leave  me  not  in  this  way;  we 
must  have  farther  conference.  Why  should  one  being 
desire  aid  of  another?  Why  should  not  each  be  sufBcient 
to  itself?  Look  round  you;  I,  the  most  despised  and 
most  decrepit  on  Nature's  common,  have  required  sym- 
pathy and  help  from  no  one.  These  stones  are  of  my  own 
piling;  these  utensils  I  framed  with  my  own  hands;  and 
with  this,'  and  he  laid  his  hand  with  a  fierce  smile  on  the 
long  dagger  which  he  always  wore  beneath  his  garment, 
and  unsheathed  it  so  far  that  the  blade  glimmered  clear 
in  the  firelight  —  'with  this,'  he  pursued,  as  he  thrust 
the  weapon  back  into  the  scabbard,  'I  can,  if  necessary, 
defend  the  vital  spark  inclosed  in  this  poor  trunk  against 
the  fairest  and  strongest  that  shall  threaten  me  with 
injury.  ^ 

It  was  with  difficulty  Isabella  refrained  from  scream- 
ing out  aloud;  but  she  did  refrain. 

'This,'  continued  the  Recluse,  'is  the  life  of  nature 
—  solitary,  self-sufficing,  and  independent.  The  wolf 
calls  not  the  wolf  to  aid  him  in  forming  his  den;  and  the 
vulture  invites  not  another  to  assist  her  in  striking  down 
her  prey.' 

'And  when  they  are  unable  to  procure  themselves 
366 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


support,'  said  Isabella,  judiciously  thinking  that  he 
would  be  most  accessible  to  argument  couched  in  his 
own  metaphorical  style,  ^what  then  is  to  befall  them?' 

'Let  them  starve,  die,  and  be  forgotten;  it  is  the  com- 
mon lot  of  humanity.' 

'It  is  the  lot  of  the  wild  tribes  of  nature,'  said  Isa- 
bella, '  but  chiefly  of  those  who  are  destined  to  support 
themselves  by  rapine,  which  brooks  no  partner;  but  it 
is  not  the  law  of  nature  in  general,  even  the  lower  or- 
ders have  confederacies  for  mutual  defence.  But  man- 
kind —  the  race  would  perish  did  they  cease  to  aid  each 
other.  From  the  time  that  the  mother  binds  the  child's 
head  till  the  moment  that  some  kind  assistant  wipes  the 
death-damp  from  the  brow  of  the  dying,  we  cannot 
exist  without  mutual  help.  All,  therefore,  that  need  aid 
have  right  to  ask  it  of  their  fellow-mortals;  no  one  who 
has  the  power  of  granting  can  refuse  it  without  guilt.' 

'And  in  this  simple  hope,  poor  maiden,' said  the  Sol- 
itary, '  thou  hast  come  into  the  desert  to  seek  one  whose 
wish  it  were  that  the  league  thou  hast  spoken  of  were 
broken  for  ever,  and  that  in  very  truth  the  whole  race 
should  perish?  Wert  thou  not  frightened?' 

'Misery,'  said  Isabella,  firmly,  'is  superior  to  fear/ 

'Hast  thou  not  heard  it  said  in  thy  mortal  world  that 
I  have  leagued  myself  with  other  powers,  deformed  to 
the  eye  and  malevolent  to  the  human  race  as  myself? 
Hast  thou  not  heard  this?  And  dost  thou  seek  my  cell 
at  midnight?' 

'The  Being  I  worship  supports  me  against  such  idle 
fears,'  said  Isabella;  but  the  increasing  agitation  of  her 
bosom  belied  the  affected  courage  which  her  words 
expressed. 

367 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


*Ho!  ho!'  said  the  Dwarf,  'thou  vauntest  thyself  a 
philosopher?  Yet,  shouldst  thou  not  have  thought  of 
the  danger  of  entrusting  thyself,  young  and  beautiful, 
in  the  power  of  one  so  spited  against  humanity  as  to 
place  his  chief  pleasure  in  defacing,  destroying,  and 
degrading  her  fairest  works? ' 

Isabella,  much  alarmed,  continued  to  answer  with 
firmness  —  'Whatever  injuries  you  may  have  sustained 
in  the  world,  you  are  incapable  of  revenging  them  on  one 
who  never  wronged  you,  nor,  wilfully,  any  other/ 

'  Ay,  but,  maiden,'  he  continued,  his  dark  eyes  flash- 
ing with  an  expression  of  malignity  which  communicated 
itself  to  his  wild  and  distorted  features,  'revenge  is  the 
hungry  wolf,  which  asks  only  to  tear  flesh  and  lap  blood. 
Think  you  the  lamb's  plea  of  innocence  would  be  listened 
to  by  him?' 

'Man!'  said  Isabella,  rising,  and  expressing  herself 
with  much  dignity,  'I  fear  not  the  horrible  ideas  with 
which  you  would  impress  me.  I  cast  them  from  me  with 
disdain.  Be  you  mortal  or  fiend,  you  would  not  offer 
injury  to  one  who  sought  you  as  a  suppliant  in  her 
utmost  need.  You  would  not  —  you  durst  not.' 

'Thou  sayst  truly,  maiden,'  rejoined  the  Solitary; 
'I  dare  not  —  I  would  not.  Begone  to  thy  dwelling. 
Fear  nothing  with  which  they  threaten  thee.  Thou  hast 
asked  my  protection;  thou  shalt  find  it  effectual.' 

'But,  father,  this  very  night  I  have  consented  to  wed 
the  man  that  I  abhor,  or  I  must  put  the  seal  to  my 
father's  ruin.' 

'This  night?  at  what  hour?' 

'Ere  midnight.' 

'And  twilight,'  said  the  Dwarf,  'has  already  passed 

368 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


away.  But  fear  nothing,  there  is  ample  time  to  protect 
thee/ 

'And  my  father?'  continued  Isabella,  in  a  suppliant 
tone. 

'Thy  father,'  replied  the  Dwarf,  'has  been,  and  is, 
my  most  bitter  enemy.  But  fear  not;  thy  virtue  shall 
save  him.  And  now,  begone;  were  I  to  keep  thee  longer 
by  me  I  might  again  fall  into  the  stupid  dreams  concern- 
ing human  worth  from  which  I  have  been  so  fearfully 
awakened.  But  fear  nothing;  at  the  very  foot  of  the 
altar  I  will  redeem  thee.  Adieu,  time  presses,  and  I 
must  act!' 

He  led  her  to  the  door  of  the  hut,  which  he  opened  for 
her  departure.  She  remounted  her  horse,  which  had  been 
feeding  in  the  outer  inclosure,  and  pressed  him  forward 
by  the  light  of  the  moon,  which  was  now  rising,  to  the 
spot  where  she  had  left  Ratcliffe. 

'Have  you  succeeded?'  was  his  first  eager  question. 

'I  have  obtained  promises  from  him  to  whom  you 
sent  me;  but  how  can  he  possibly  accomplish  them?' 

'Thank  God!'  said  Ratcliffe;  'doubt  not  his  power  to 
fulfil  his  promise.' 

At  this  moment  a  shrill  whistle  was  heard  to  re- 
sound along  the  heath. 

'  Hark ! '  said  Ratcliffe, '  he  calls  me.  Miss  Vere,  return 
home,  and  leave  unbolted  the  postern-door  of  the  gar- 
den; to  that  which  opens  on  the  backstairs  I  have  a 
private  key.' 

A  second  whistle  was  heard,  yet  more  shrill  and  pro- 
longed than  the  first. 

'I  come,  I  come,'  said  Ratcliffe;  and,  setting  spurs  to 
his  horse,  rode  over  the  heath  in  the  direction  of  the 
6  369 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


Recluse's  hut.  Miss  Vere  returned  to  the  castle,  the 
mettle  of  the  animal  on  which  she  rode,  and  her  own 
anxiety  of  mind,  combining  to  accelerate  her  journey. 

She  obeyed  Ratcliffe's  directions,  though  without 
well  apprehending  their  purpose,  and,  leaving  her  horse 
at  large  in  a  paddock  near  the  garden,  hurried  to  her 
own  apartment,  which  she  reached  without  observation. 
She  now  unbolted  her  door,  and  rang  her  bell  for  lights. 
Her  father  appeared  along  with  the  servant  who  an- 
swered her  summons. 

*He  had  been  twice,'  he  said,  ^listening  at  her  door 
during  the  two  hours  that  had  elapsed  since  he  left  her, 
and  not  hearing  her  speak,  had  become  apprehensive 
that  she  was  taken  ilL' 

*And  now,  my  dear  father,'  she  said,  'permit  me  to 
claim  the  promise  you  so  kindly  gave;  let  the  last  mo- 
ments of  freedom  which  I  am  to  enjoy  be  mine  without 
interruption;  and  protract  to  the  last  moment  the  respite 
which  is  allowed  me.' 

'I  will,'  said  her  father;  'nor  shall  you  be  again  inter- 
rupted. But  this  disordered  dress  —  this  dishevelled 
hair!  do  not  let  me  find  you  thus  when  I  call  on  you 
again;  the  sacrifice,  to  be  beneficial,  must  be  voluntary.' 

'  Must  it  be  so? '  she  replied ; '  then  fear  not,  my  father ! 
the  victim  shall  be  adorned.' 


CHAPTER  XVII 


This  looks  not  like  a  nuptial. 

Much  Ado  About  Nothing. 

The  chapel  in  the  Castle  of  Ellieslaw,  destined  to  be 
the  scene  of  this  ill-omened  union,  was  a  building  of 
much  older  date  than  the  castle  itself,  though  that 
claimed  considerable  antiquity.  Before  the  wars  between 
England  and  Scotland  had  become  so  common  and  of 
such  long  duration  that  the  buildings  along  both  sides  of 
the  Border  were  chiefly  dedicated  to  warlike  purposes, 
there  had  been  a  small  settlement  of  monks  at  Ellieslaw, 
a  dependency,  it  is  believed  by  antiquaries,  on  the  rich 
abbey  of  Jedburgh.  Their  possessions  had  long  passed 
away  under  the  changes  introduced  by  war  and  mutual 
ravage.  A  feudal  castle  had  arisen  on  the  ruin  of  their 
cells,  and  their  chapel  was  included  in  its  precincts. 

The  edifice,  in  its  round  arches  and  massive  pillars, 
the  simplicity  of  which  referred  their  date  to  what  has 
been  called  the  Saxon  architecture,  presented  at  all 
times  a  dark  and  sombre  appearance,  and  had  been 
frequently  used  as  the  cemetery  of  the  family  of  the 
feudal  lords,  as  well  as  formerly  of  the  monastic  breth- 
ren. But  it  looked  doubly  gloomy  by  the  effect  of  the 
few  and  smoky  torches  which  were  used  to  enlighten 
it  on  the  present  occasion,  and  which,  spreading  a  glare 
of  yellow  light  in  their  immediate  vicinity,  were  sur- 
rounded beyond  by  a  red  and  purple  halo  reflected  from 
their  own  smoke,  and  beyond  that  again  by  a  zone  of 

371 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 

darkness  which  magnified  the  extent  of  the  chapel,  while 
it  rendered  it  impossible  for  the  eye  to  ascertain  its 
limits.  Some  injudicious  ornaments,  adopted  in  haste 
for  the  occasion,  rather  added  to  the  dreariness  of  the 
scene.  Old  fragments  of  tapestry,  torn  from  the  walls 
of  other  apartments,  had  been  hastily  and  partially 
disposed  around  those  of  the  chapel,  and  mingled  in- 
consistently with  scutcheons  and  funeral  emblems  of  the 
dead,  which  they  elsewhere  exhibited.  On  each  side  of 
the  stone  altar  was  a  monument,  the  appearance  of 
which  formed  an  equally  strange  contrast.  On  the  one 
was  the  figure,  in  stone,  of  some  grim  hermit  or  monk 
who  had  died  in  the  odour  of  sanctity;  he  was  repre- 
sented as  recumbent,  in  his  cowl  and  scapular,  with  his 
face  turned  upward  as  in  the  act  of  devotion,  and  his 
hands  folded,  from  which  his  string  of  beads  was  de- 
pendent. On  the  other  side  was  a  tomb,  in  the  Italian 
taste,  composed  of  the  most  beautiful  statuary  marble, 
and  accounted  a  model  of  modern  art.  It  was  erected 
to  the  memory  of  Isabella's  mother,  the  late  Mrs.  Vere 
of  Ellieslaw,  who  was  represented  as  in  a  dying  posture, 
while  a  weeping  cherub,  with  eyes  averted,  seemed  in  the 
act  of  extinguishing  a  dying  lamp  as  emblematic  of  her 
speedy  dissolution.  It  was  indeed,  a  masterpiece  of  art, 
but  misplaced  in  the  rude  vault  to  which  it  had  been 
consigned.  Many  were  surprised,  and  even  scandalised, 
that  Ellieslaw,  not  remarkable  for  attention  to  his  lady 
while  alive,  should  erect  after  her  death  such  a  costly 
mausoleum  in  affected  sorrow;  others  cleared  him  from 
the  imputation  of  hypocrisy,  and  averred  that  the  monu- 
ment had  been  constructed  under  the  direction  and  at 
the  sole  expense  of  Mr.  Ratclifife. 

372 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


Before  these  monuments  the  wedding  guests  were 
assembled.  They  were  few  in  number;  for  many  had 
left  the  castle  to  prepare  for  the  ensuing  political  ex- 
plosion, and  EUieslaw  was,  in  the  circumstances  of  the 
case,  far  from  being  desirous  to  extend  invitations 
farther  than  to  those  near  relations  whose  presence  the 
custom  of  the  country  rendered  indispensable.  Next  to 
the  altar  stood  Sir  Frederick  Langley,  dark,  moody, 
and  thoughtful  even  beyond  his  wont,  and  near  him 
Mareschal,  who  was  to  play  the  part  of  bridesman,  as 
it  was  called.  The  thoughtless  humour  of  this  young 
gentleman,  on  which  he  never  deigned  to  place  the  least 
restraint,  added  to  the  cloud  which  overhung  the  brow 
of  the  bridegroom. 

'The  bride  is  not  yet  come  out  of  her  chamber,'  he 
whispered  to  Sir  Frederick;  'I  trust  that  we  must  not 
have  recourse  to  the  violent  expedients  of  the  Romans 
which  I  read  of  at  college.  It  would  be  hard  upon  my 
pretty  cousin  to  be  run  away  with  twice  in  two  days, 
though  I  know  none  better  worth  such  a  violent  compli- 
ment.' 

Sir  Frederick  attempted  to  turn  a  deaf  ear  to  this  dis- 
course, humming  a  tune  and  looking  another  way;  but 
Mareschal  proceeded  in  the  same  wild  manner.  'This 
delay  is  hard  upon  Dr.  Hobbler,  who  was  disturbed  to 
accelerate  preparations  for  this  joyful  event  when  he 
had  successfully  extracted  the  cork  of  his  third  bottle. 
I  hope  you  will  keep  him  free  of  the  censure  of  his  su- 
periors, for  I  take  it  this  is  beyond  canonical  hours. 
But  here  come  EUieslaw  and  my  pretty  cousin  —  pret- 
tier than  ever,  I  think,  were  it  not  she  seems  so  faint 
and  so  deadly  pale.  Hark  ye.  Sir  Knight,  if  she  says  not 

373 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


YES  with  right  good-will,  it  shall  be  no  wedding,  for  all 
that  has  come  and  gone  yet/ 

'No  wedding,  sir?'  returned  Sir  Frederick,  in  a  loud 
whisper,  the  tone  of  which  indicated  that  his  angry  feel- 
ings were  suppressed  with  difficulty. 

'No;  no  marriage,'  replied  Mareschal.  'There's  my 
hand  and  glove  on't.' 

Sir  Frederick  Langley  took  his  hand,  and,  as  he 
wrung  it  hard,  said  in  a  lower  whisper,  'Mareschal, 
you  shall  answer  this,'  and  then  flung  his  hand  from 
him. 

'That  I  will  readily  do,'  said  Mareschal,  'for  never 
word  escaped  my  hps  that  my  hand  was  not  ready  to 
guarantee.  So,  speak  up,  my  pretty  cousin,  and  tell  me 
if  it  be  your  free  will  and  unbiassed  resolution  to  accept 
of  this  gallant  knight  for  your  lord  and  husband;  for  if 
you  have  the  tenth  part  of  a  scruple  upon  the  subject, 
fall  back,  fall  edge,  he  shall  not  have  you.' 

'Are  you  mad,  Mr.  Mareschal?'  said  Ellieslaw,  who, 
having  been  this  young  man's  guardian  during  his  min- 
ority, often  employed  a  tone  of  authority  to  him.  'Do 
you  suppose  I  would  drag  my  daughter  to  the  foot  of 
the  altar,  were  it  not  her  own  choice?' 

'Tut,  Ellieslaw,' retorted  the  young  gentleman,  'never 
tell  me  of  the  contrary;  her  eyes  are  full  of  tears,  and  her 
cheeks  are  whiter  than  her  white  dress.  I  must  insist, 
in  the  name  of  common  humanity,  that  the  ceremony 
be  adjourned  till  to-morrow.' 

'She  shall  tell  you  herself,  thou  incorrigible  inter- 
meddler  in  what  concerns  thee  not,  that  it  is  her  wish 
the  ceremony  should  go  on.  Is  it  not,  Isabella,  my 
dear?' 


374 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


'It  is/  said  Isabella,  half-fainting,  'since  there  is  no 
help  either  in  God  or  man/ 

The  first  word  alone  was  distinctly  audible.  Ma- 
reschal  shrugged  up  his  shoulders  and  stepped  back. 
EUieslaw  led,  or  rather  supported,  his  daughter  to  the 
altar.  Sir  Frederick  moved  forward  and  placed  himself 
by  her  side.  The  clergyman  opened  his  prayer-book,  and 
looked  to  Mr.  Vere  for  the  signal  to  commence  the 
service. 

'Proceed,'  said  the  latter. 

But  a  voice,  as  if  issuing  from  the  tomb  of  his  de- 
ceased wife,  called,  in  such  loud  and  harsh  accents  as 
awakened  every  echo  in  the  vaulted  chapel,  'Forbear!' 

All  were  mute  and  motionless,  till  a  distant  rustle  and 
the  clash  of  swords,  or  something  resembling  it,  was 
heard  from  the  remote  apartments.  It  ceased  almost 
instantly. 

'What  new  device  is  this?'  said  Sir  Frederick  fiercely, 
eyeing  EUieslaw  and  Mareschal  with  a  glance  of  malig- 
nant suspicion. 

'It  can  be  but  the  frolic  of  some  intemperate  guest/ 
said  EUieslaw,  though  greatly  confounded;  'we  must 
make  large  allowances  for  the  excess  of  this  evening's 
festivity.  Proceed  with  the  service.' 

Before  the  clergyman  could  obey,  the  same  prohibi- 
tion which  they  had  before  heard  was  repeated  from  the 
same  spot.  The  female  attendants  screamed  and  fled 
from  the  chapel;  the  gentlemen  laid  their  hands  on  their 
swords.  Ere  the  first  moment  of  surprise  had  passed  by, 
the  Dwarf  stepped  from  behind  the  monument,  and 
placed  himself  full  in  front  of  Mr.  Vere.  The  effect  of  so 
strange  and  hideous  an  apparition  in  such  a  place,  and 

375 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


in  such  circumstances,  appalled  all  present,  but  seemed 
to  annihilate  the  Laird  of  EUieslaw,  who,  dropping  his 
daughter's  arm,  staggered  against  the  nearest  pillar,  and, 
clasping  it  with  his  hands  as  if  for  support,  laid  his  brow 
against  the  column. 

^Who  is  this  fellow,'  said  Sir  Frederick;  'and  what 
does  he  mean  by  this  intrusion?' 
*  'It  is  one  who  comes  to  tell  you,'  said  the  Dwarf,  with 
the  peculiar  acrimony  which  usually  marked  his  manner, 
'that  in  marrying  that  young  lady  you  wed  neither 
the  heiress  of  EUieslaw,  nor  of  Mauley  Hall,  nor  of 
Polverton,  nor  of  one  furrow  of  land,  unless  she  mar- 
ries with  MY  consent;  and  to  thee  that  consent  shall 
never  be  given.  Down  —  down  on  thy  knees,  and 
thank  Heaven  that  thou  art  prevented  from  wedding 
qualities  with  which  thou  hast  no  concern  —  portion- 
less truth,  virtue,  and  innocence.  And  thou,  base  in- 
grate,'  he  continued,  addressing  himself  to  EUieslaw, 
'what  is  thy  wretched  subterfuge  now?  Thou,  who 
wouldst  sell  thy  daughter  to  relieve  thee  from  danger,  as 
in  famine  thou  wouldst  have  slain  and  devoured  her  to 
preserve  thy  own  vile  life!  Ay,  hide  thy  face  with  thy 
hands;  well  mayst  thou  blush  to  look  on  him  whose 
body  thou  didst  consign  to  chains,  his  hand  to  guilt,  and 
his  soul  to  misery.  Saved  once  more  by  the  virtue  of  her 
who  calls  thee  father,  go  hence,  and  may  the  pardon  and 
benefits  I  confer  on  thee  prove  literal  coals  of  fire,  till 
thy  brain  is  seared  and  scorched  like  mine!' 

EUieslaw  left  the  chapel  with  a  gesture  of  mute  despair. 

'Follow  him,  Hubert  Ratcliffe,'  said  the  Dwarf,  'and 
inform  him  of  his  destiny.  He  will  rejoice,  for  to  breathe 
air  and  to  handle  gold  is  to  him  happiness.' 

376 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


*I  understand  nothing  of  all  this/  said  Sir  Frederick 
Langley.  'But  we  are  here  a  body  of  gentlemen  in  arms 
and  authority  for  King  James;  and  whether  you  really, 
sir,  be  that  Sir  Edward  Mauley  who  has  been  so  long 
supposed  dead  in  confinement,  or  whether  you  be  an 
impostor  assuming  his  name  and  title,  we  will  use  the 
freedom  of  detaining  you  till  your  appearance  here,  at 
this  moment,  is  better  accounted  for;  we  will  have  no 
spies  among  us.  Seize  on  him,  my  friends.' 

But  the  domestics  shrunk  back  in  doubt  and  alarm. 
Sir  Frederick  himself  stepped  forward  towards  the  Re- 
cluse, as  if  to  lay  hands  on  his  person,  when  his  progress 
was  suddenly  stopped  by  the  glittering  point  of  a  parti- 
zan,  which  the  sturdy  hand  of  Hobbie  Elliot  presented 
against  his  bosom. 

*I'll  gar  daylight  shine  through  ye  if  ye  offer  to  steer 
him!'  said  the  stout  Borderer;  'stand  back,  or  I'll  strike 
ye  through!  Naebody  shall  lay  a  finger  on  Elshie;  he's 
a  canny  neighbourly  man,  aye  ready  to  make  a  friend 
help;  and,  though  ye  may  think  him  a  lamiter,  yet, 
grippie  for  grippie,  friend,  I'll  wad  a  wether  he'll  make 
the  bluid  spin  frae  under  your  nails.  He 's  a  teugh  carle, 
Elshie!  he  grips  like  a  smith's  vice.' 

'What  has  brought  you  here,  Elliot?'  said  Mareschal; 
'who  called  on  you  for  interference?' 

'Troth,  Mareschal  Wells,'  answered  Hobbie,  'I  am 
just  come  here,  wi'  twenty  or  thretty  mair  o'  us,  in  my 
ain  name  and  the  King's  —  or  Queen's,  ca'  they  her?  — 
and  Canny  Elshie's  into  the  bargain,  to  keep  the  peace, 
and  pay  back  some  ill-usage  Ellieslaw  has  gien  me.  A 
bonny  breakfast  the  loons  gae  me  the  ither  morning, 
and  him  at  the  bottom  on 't;  and  trow  ye  I  wasna  ready 


377 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


to  supper  him  up?  Ye  needna  lay  your  hands  on  your 
swords,  gentlemen,  the  house  is  ours  wi'  little  din;  for  the 
doors  were  open,  and  there  had  beenower  muckle  punch 
amang  your  folk;  we  took  their  swords  and  pistols  as 
easily  as  ye  wad  shiel  peacods/ 

Mareschal  rushed  out,  and  immediately  reentered 
the  chapel. 

^By  Heaven!  it  is  true,  Sir  Frederick;  the  house  is 
jSUed  with  armed  men,  and  our  drunken  beasts  are 
all  disarmed.  Draw,  and  let  us  fight  our  way.' 

'Binna  rash  —  binna  rash,'  exclaimed  Hobbie;  ^hear 
me  a  bit  —  hear  me  a  bit.  We  mean  ye  nae  harm ;  but, 
as  ye  are  in  arms  for  King  James,  as  ye  ca'  him,  and  the 
prelates,  we  thought  it  right  to  keep  up  the  auld  neigh- 
bour war,  and  stand  up  for  the  t'other  ane  and  the  Kirk; 
but  we  '11  no  hurt  a  hair  o'  your  heads  if  ye  like  to  gang 
hame  quietly.  And  it  will  be  your  best  way,  for  there's 
sure  news  come  frae  Loudoun  that  him  they  ca'  Bang, 
or  Byng,  or  what  is't,  has  bang'd  the  French  ships  and 
the  new  king  aff  the  coast  however;  sae  ye  had  best  bide 
content  wi'  auld  Nanse  for  want  of  a  better  queen.' 

Ratcliffe,  who  at  this  moment  entered,  confirmed 
these  accounts  so  unfavourable  to  the  Jacobite  interest. 
Sir  Frederick  almost  instantly,  and  without  taking  leave 
of  any  one,  left  the  castle,  with  such  of  his  attendants  as 
were  able  to  follow  him. 

^And  what  will  you  do,  Mr.  Mareschal?'  said  Rat- 
cliffe. 

*Why,  faith,'  answered  he,  smiling,  hardly  know; 
my  spirit  is  too  great,  and  my  fortune  too  small,  for  me 
to  follow  the  example  of  the  doughty  bridegroom.  It  is 
not  in  my  nature,  and  it  is  hardly  worth  my  while.' 

378 


THE^BLACK  DWARF 


'Well,  then,  disperse  your  men  and  remain  quiet,  and 
this  will  be  overlooked,  as  there  has  been  no  overt  act/ 

'Hout,  ay,'  said  Elliot,  ^just  let  byganes  be  byganes, 
and  a'  friends  again;  deil  ane  I  bear  malice  at  but  West- 
burnflat,  and  I  hae  gien  him  baith  a  het  skin  and  a  cauld 
ane.  I  hadna  changed  three  blows  of  the  broadsword  wi' 
him  before  he  lap  the  window  into  the  castle  moat,  and 
swattered  through  it  like  a  wild  duck.  He's  a  clever  fal- 
low, indeed !  maun  kilt  awa  wi'  ae  bonny  lass  in  the  morn- 
ing and  another  at  night,  less  wadna  serve  him !  but  if 
he  disna  kilt  himsell  out  o'  the  country,  I'se  kilt  him  wi' 
a  tow,  for  the  Castleton  meeting's  clean  blawn  ower; 
his  friends  will  no  countenance  him.' 

During  the  general  confusion  Isabella  had  thrown 
herself  at  the  feet  of  her  kinsman,  Sir  Edward  Mauley, 
for  so  we  must  now  call  the  Solitary,  to  express  at  once 
her  gratitude  and  to  beseech  forgiveness  for  her  father. 
The  eyes  of  all  began  to  be  fixed  on  them,  as  soon  as 
their  own  agitation  and  the  bustle  of  the  attendants  had 
somewhat  abated.  Miss  Vere  kneeled  beside  the  tomb 
of  her  mother,  to  whose  statue  her  features  exhibited  a 
marked  resemblance.  She  held  the  hand  of  the  Dwarf, 
which  she  kissed  repeatedly  and  bathed  with  tears.  He 
stood  fixed  and  motionless,  excepting  that  his  eyes 
glanced  alternately  on  the  marble  figure  and  the  living 
suppliant.  At  length  the  large  drops  which  gathered  on 
his  eyelashes  compelled  him  to  draw  his  hand  across 
them. 

*I  thought,'  he  said,  'that  tears  and  I  had  done;  but 
we  shed  them  at  our  birth  and  their  spring  dries  not 
until  we  are  in  our  graves.  But  no  melting  of  the  heart 
shall  dissolve  my  resolution.  I  part  here,  at  once  and 

379 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


for  ever,  with  all  of  which  the  memory  (looking  to  the 
tomb)  or  the  presence  (he  pressed  Isabella's  hand)  is 
dear  to  me.  Speak  not  to  me !  attempt  not  to  thwart  my 
determination!  it  will  avail  nothing;  you  will  hear  of  and 
see  this  lump  of  deformity  no  more.  To  you  I  shall  be 
dead  ere  I  am  actually  in  my  grave,  and  you  will  think 
of  me  as  of  a  friend  disencumbered  from  the  toils  and 
crimes  of  existence.' 

He  kissed  Isabella  on  the  forehead,  impressed  another 
kiss  on  the  brow  of  the  statue  by  which  she  knelt,  and 
left  the  chapel,  followed  by  Ratcliffe.  Isabella,  almost 
exhausted  by  the  emotions  of  the  day,  was  carried  to  her 
apartment  by  her  women.  Most  of  the  other  guests  dis- 
persed, after  having  separately  endeavoured  to  impress 
on  all  who  would  Hsten  to  them  their  disapprobation  of 
the  plots  formed  against  the  government,  or  their  regret 
for  having  engaged  in  them.  Hobbie  Elliot  assumed  the 
command  of  the  castle  for  the  night  and  mounted  a  regu- 
lar guard.  He  boasted  not  a  little  of  the  alacrity  with 
which  his  friends  and  he  had  obeyed  a  hasty  summons 
received  from  Elshie  through  the  faithful  Ratcliffe.  And 
it  was  a  lucky  chance,  he  said,  that  on  that  very  day 
they  had  got  notice  that  Westburnflat  did  not  intend  to 
keep  his  tryste  at  Castleton,  but  to  hold  them  at  defi- 
ance; so  that  a  considerable  party  had  assembled  at  the 
Heughfoot  with  the  intention  of  paying  a  visit  to  the 
robber's  tower  on  the  ensuing  morning,  and  their  course 
was  easily  directed  to  EUieslaw  Castle. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 


Last  scene  of  all. 
To  close  this  strange  eventful  history. 

As  You  Like  It, 

On  the  next  morning  Mr.  RatcKffe  presented  Miss  Vera 
with  a  letter  from  her  father,  of  which  the  following  is 
the  tenor:  — 

My  dearest  Child, 

The  malice  of  a  persecuting  government  will  compel 
me,  for  my  own  safety,  to  retreat  abroad,  and  to  remain 
for  some  time  in  foreign  parts .  I  do  no t  ask  you  to  accom- 
pany or  follow  me;  you  will  attend  to  my  interest  and 
your  own  more  effectually  by  remaining  where  you  are. 
It  is  unnecessary  to  enter  into  a  minute  detail  concern- 
ing the  causes  of  the  strange  events  which  yesterday  took 
place.  I  think  I  have  reason  to  complain  of  the  usage  I 
have  received  from  Sir  Edward  Mauley,  who  is  your 
nearest  kinsman  by  the  mother's  side;  but,  as  he  has  de- 
clared you  his  heir  and  is  to  put  you  in  immediate  pos- 
session of  a  large  part  of  his  fortune,  I  account  it  a  full 
atonement.  I  am  aware  he  has  never  forgiven  the  pre- 
ference which  your  mother  gave  to  my  addresses,  in- 
stead of  complying  with  the  terms  of  a  sort  of  family 
compact,  which  absurdly  and  tyrannically  destined  her 
to  wed  her  deformed  relative.  The  shock  was  even  sufl&- 
cient  to  unsettle  his  wits  (which,  indeed,  were  never 
over- well  arr^^nged),  and  I  had,  as  the  husband  of  his 

381 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


nearest  kinswoman  and  heir,  the  delicate  task  of  taking 
care  of  his  person  and  property  until  he  was  reinstated 
in  the  management  of  the  latter  by  those  who,  no  doubt, 
thought  they  were  doing  him  justice;  although,  if  some 
parts  of  his  subsequent  conduct  be  examined,  it  will  ap- 
pear that  he  ought,  for  his  own  sake,  to  have  been  left 
under  the  influence  of  a  mild  and  salutary  restraint. 

In  one  particular,  however,  he  showed  a  sense  of  the 
ties  of  blood,  as  well  as  of  his  own  frailty;  for,  while  he 
sequestered  himself  closely  from  the  world,  under  va- 
rious names  and  disguises,  and  insisted  on  spreading  a 
report  of  his  own  death  (in  which,  to  gratify  him,  I  will- 
ingly acquiesced),  he  left  at  my  disposal  the  rents  of  a 
great  proportion  of  his  estates,  and  especially  all  those 
which,  having  belonged  to  your  mother,  reverted  to 
him  as  a  male  fief.  In  this  he  may  have  thought  that  he 
was  acting  with  extreme  generosity,  while  in  the  opin- 
ion of  all  impartial  men  he  will  only  be  considered  as 
having  fulfilled  a  natural  obligation,  seeing  that,  in  jus- 
tice if  not  in  strict  law,  you  must  be  considered  as  the 
heir  of  your  mother,  and  I  as  your  legal  administrator. 
Instead,  therefore,  of  considering  myself  as  loaded  with 
obligations  to  Sir  Edward  on  this  account,  I  think  I  had 
reason  to  complain  that  these  remittances  were  only 
doled  out  to  me  at  the  pleasure  of  Mr.  Ratcliffe,  who, 
moreover,  exacted  from  me  mortgages  over  my  paternal 
estate  of  Ellieslaw  for  any  sums  which  I  required  as  an 
extra  advance;  and  thus  may  be  said  to  have  insinu- 
ated himself  into  the  absolute  management  and  control 
of  my  property.  Or,  if  all  this  seeming  friendship  was 
employed  by  Sir  Edward  for  the  purpose  of  obtaining 
a  complete  command  of  my  affairs,  and  acquiring  the 

382 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


power  of  ruining  me  at  his  pleasure,  I  feel  myself,  I  must 
repeat,  still  less  bound  by  the  alleged  obligation. 

About  the  autumn  of  last  year,  as  I  understand, 
either  his  own  crazed  imagination  or  the  accomplish- 
ment of  some  such  scheme  as  I  have  hinted  brought  him 
down  to  this  country.  His  alleged  motive,  it  seems,  was 
a  desire  of  seeing  a  monument  which  he  had  directed  to 
be  raised  in  the  chapel  over  the  tomb  of  your  mother. 
Mr.  Ratcliffe,  who  at  this  time  had  done  me  the  honour 
to  make  my  house  his  own,  had  the  complaisance  to  in- 
troduce him  secretly  into  the  chapel.  The  consequence, 
as  he  informs  me,  was  a  frenzy  of  several  hours,  during 
which  he  fled  into  the  neighbouring  moors,  in  one  of  the 
wildest  spots  of  which  he  chose,  when  he  was  somewhat 
recovered,  to  fix  his  mansion,  and  set  up  for  a  sort  of 
country  empiric,  a  character  which,  even  in  his  best 
days,  he  was  fond  of  assuming.  It  is  remarkable  that, 
instead  of  informing  me  of  these  circumstances,  that  I 
might  have  had  the  relative  of  my  late  wife  taken  such 
care  of  as  his  calamitous  condition  required,  Mr.  Rat- 
cliffe seems  to  have  had  such  culpable  indulgence  for  his 
irregular  plans  as  to  promise,  and  even  swear,  secrecy 
concerning  them.  He  visited  Sir  Edward  often,  and  as- 
sisted in  the  fantastic  task  he  had  taken  upon  him  of 
constructing  a  hermitage.  Nothing  they  appear  to  have 
dreaded  more  than  a  discovery  of  their  intercourse. 

The  ground  was  open  in  every  direction  around,  and 
a  small  subterranean  cave,  probably  sepulchral,  which 
their  researches  had  detected  near  the  great  granite 
pillar,  served  to  conceal  Ratcliffe  when  any  one  ap- 
proached his  master.  I  think  you  will  be  of  opinion,  my 
love,  that  this  secrecy  must  have  had  some  strong  mo- 

383 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


tive.  It  is  also  remarkable  that,  while  I  thought  my 
unhappy  friend  was  residing  among  the  monks  of  La 
Trappe,  he  should  have  been  actually  living  for  many 
months  in  this  bizarre  disguise  within  five  miles  of  my 
house,  and  obtaining  regular  information  of  my  most 
private  movements,  either  by  Ratcliffe  or  through 
Westburnflat  or  others,  whom  he  had  the  means  to 
bribe  to  any  extent.  He  makes  it  a  crime  against  me 
that  I  endeavoured  to  establish  your  marriage  with  Sir 
Frederick.  I  acted  for  the  best;  but  if  Sir  Edward  Mau- 
ley thought  otherwise,  why  did  he  not  step  manfully 
forward,  express  his  own  purpose  of  becoming  a  party 
to  the  settlements,  and  take  that  interest  which  he  is 
entitled  to  claim  in  you  as  heir  to  his  great  property? 

Even  now,  though  your  rash  and  eccentric  relation 
is  somewhat  tardy  in  announcing  his  purpose,  I  am  far 
from  opposing  my  authority  against  his  wishes,  although 
the  person  he  desires  you  to  regard  as  your  future  hus- 
band be  young  Earnscliff ,  the  very  last  whom  I  should 
have  thought  likely  to  be  acceptable  to  him,  consider- 
ing a  certain  fatal  event.  But  I  give  my  free  and  hearty 
consent,  providing  the  settlements  are  drawn  in  such  an 
irrevocable  form  as  may  secure  my  child  from  suffering 
by  that  state  of  dependence,  and  that  sudden  and  cause- 
less revocation  of  allowances,  of  which  I  have  so  much 
reason  to  complain.  Of  Sir  Frederick  Langley,  I  augur, 
you  will  hear  no  more.  He  is  not  likely  to  claim  the 
hand  of  a  dowerless  maiden.  I  therefore  commit  you, 
my  dear  Isabella,  to  the  wisdom  of  Providence  and  to 
your  own  prudence,  begging  you  to  lose  no  time  in 
securing  those  advantages  which  the  fickleness  of  your 
kinsman  has  withdrawn  from  me  to  shower  upon  you. 

384 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


Mr.  Ratcliffe  mentioned  Sir  Edward's  intention  to 
settle  a  considerable  sum  upon  me  yearly  for  my  main- 
tenance in  foreign  parts;  but  this  my  heart  is  too  proud 
to  accept  from  him.  I  told  him  I  had  a  dear  child,  who, 
while  in  aJBSuence  herself,  would  never  suffer  me  to  be 
in  poverty.  I  thought  it  right  to  intimate  this  to  him 
pretty  roundly,  that,  whatever  increase  be  settled  upon 
you,  it  may  be  calculated  so  as  to  cover  this  necessary 
and  natural  encumbrance.  I  shall  willingly  settle  upon 
you  the  castle  and  manor  of  Ellieslaw,  to  show  my  pa- 
rental affection  and  disinterested  zeal  for  promoting 
your  settlement  in  life.  The  annual  interest  of  debts 
charged  on  the  estate  somewhat  exceeds  the  income, 
even  after  a  reasonable  rent  has  been  put  upon  the  man- 
sion and  mains.  But  as  all  the  debts  are  in  the  person 
of  Mr.  Ratcliffe,  as  your  kinsman's  trustee,  he  will  not 
be  a  troublesome  creditor.  And  here  I  must  make  you 
aware  that,  though  I  have  to  complain  of  Mr.  Rat- 
cliffe's  conduct  to  me  personally,  I  nevertheless,  be- 
lieve him  a  just  and  upright  man,  with  whom  you  may 
safely  consult  on  your  affairs,  not  to  mention  that  to 
cherish  his  good  opinion  will  be  the  best  way  to  retain 
that  of  your  kinsman.  Remember  me  to  Marchie.  I 
hope  he  will  not  be  troubled  on  account  of  late  matters. 
I  will  write  more  fully  from  the  Continent.  Meanwhile, 
I  rest  your  loving  father,  Richard  Vere. 

The  above  letter  throws  the  only  additional  light 
which  we  have  been  able  to  procure  upon  the  earlier 
part  of  our  story.  It  was  Hobble's  opinion,  and  may  be 
that  of  most  of  our  readers,  that  the  Recluse  of  Muckle- 
stane  Moor  had  but  a  kind  of  a  gloaming  or  twilight 

e  385 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


understanding;  and  that  he  had  neither  very  clear 
views  as  to  what  he  himself  wanted  nor  was  apt  to  pur- 
sue his  ends  by  the  clearest  and  most  direct  means;  so 
that  to  seek  the  clue  of  his  conduct  was  likened  by  Hob- 
bie  to  looking  for  a  straight  path  through  a  common 
over  which  are  a  hundred  devious  tracks,  but  not  one 
distinct  line  of  road. 

When  Isabella  had  perused  the  letter  her  first  in- 
quiry was  after  her  father.  He  had  left  the  castle,  she 
was  informed,  early  in  the  morning,  after  a  long  inter- 
view with  Mr.  Ratclifle,  and  was  already  far  on  his  way 
to  the  next  port,  where  he  might  expect  to  find  shipping 
for  the  Continent. 

^ Where  was  Sir  Edward  Mauley?' 

No  one  had  seen  the  Dwarf  since  the  eventful  scene 
of  the  preceding  evening. 

'Od,  if  ony  thing  has  befa'en  puir  Elshie,'  said  Hob- 
ble Elliot,  '  I  wad  rather  I  were  harried  ower  again.' 

He  immediately  rode  to  his  dwelling,  and  the  remain- 
ing she-goat  came  bleating  to  meet  him,  for  her  milking 
time  was  long  past.  The  Solitary  was  nowhere  to  be 
seen;  his  door,  contrary  to  wont,  was  open,  his  fire  ex- 
tinguished, and  the  whole  hut  was  left  in  the  state 
which  it  exhibited  on  Isabella's  visit  to  him.  It  was 
pretty  clear  that  the  means  of  conveyance  which  had 
brought  the  Dwarf  to  Ellieslaw  on  the  preceding  even- 
ing had  removed  him  from  it  to  some  other  place  of 
abode.  Hobbie  returned  disconsolate  to  the  castle. 

'I  am  doubting  we  hae  lost  Canny  Elshie  for  gude  an' 
a'.' 

^  You  have  indeed,'  said  Ratclifle,  producing  a  paper, 
which  he  put  into  Hobble's  hands;  ^but  read  that  and 

386 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


you  will  perceive  you  have  been  no  loser  by  having 
known  him.' 

It  was  a  short  deed  of  gift,  by  which  ^Sir  Edward 
Mauley,  otherwise  called  Elshender  the  Recluse,  en- 
dowed Halbert  or  Hobbie  Elliot  and  Grace  Armstrong 
in  full  property  with  a  considerable  sum  borrowed  by 
Elliot  from  him.' 

Hobble's  joy  was  mingled  with  feelings  which  brought 
tears  down  his  rough  cheeks. 

'It's  a  queer  thing,'  he  said;  'but  I  canna  joy  in  the 
gear  unless  I  kend  the  puir  body  was  happy  that  gave  it 
me.' 

'Next  to  enjoying  happiness  ourselves,'  said  Ratcliffe, 
^  is  the  consciousness  of  having  bestowed  it  on  others. 
Had  all  my  master's  benefits  been  conferred  like  the  pre- 
sent, what  a  different  return  would  they  have  produced! 
But  the  indiscriminate  profusion  that  would  glut  avar- 
ice or  supply  prodigality  neither  does  good  nor  is  re- 
warded by  gratitude.  It  is  sowing  the  wind  to  reap  the 
whirlwind.' 

'And  that  wad  be  a  light  har'st,'  said  Hobbie;  'but, 
wi'  my  young  leddie's  leave,  I  wad  fain  take  down  El- 
shie's  skeps  o'  bees  and  set  them  in  Grace's  bit  flower- 
yard  at  the  Heughfoot:  they  shall  ne'er  be  smeekit  by 
ony  o'  huz.  And  the  puir  goat,  she  would  be  negleckit 
about  a  great  toun  like  this ;  and  she  could  feed  bon- 
nily  on  our  lily  lea  by  the  bum  side,  and  the  hounds 
wad  ken  her  in  a  day's  time  and  never  fash  her,  and 
Grace  wad  milk  her  ilka  morning  wi'  her  ain  hand,  for 
Elshie's  sake;  for,  though  he  was  thrawn  and  cankered 
in  his  converse,  he  likeit  dumb  creatures  week' 

Hobble's  requests  were  readily  granted,  not  without 

387 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


some  wonder  at  the  natural  delicacy  of  feeling  which 
pointed  out  to  him  this  mode  of  displaying  his  gratitude. 
He  was  delighted  when  Ratclijffe  informed  him  that  his 
benefactor  should  not  remain  ignorant  of  the  care  which 
he  took  of  his  favourite. 

'And  mind  be  sure  and  tell  him  that  grannie  and  the 
titties,  and,  abune  a'  Grace  and  mysell,  are  weel  and 
thriving,  and  that  it's  a'  his  doing;  that  canna  but 
please  him,  ane  wad  think.' 

And  Elliot  and  the  family  at  Heughfoot  were,  and 
continued  to  be,  as  fortunate  and  happy  as  his  un- 
daunted honesty,  tenderness,  and  gallantry  so  well 
merited. 

All  bar  between  the  marriage  of  Earnscliff  and  Isa- 
bella was  now  removed,  and  the  settlements  which  Rat- 
chffe  produced  on  the  part  of  Sir  Edward  Mauley  might 
have  satisfied  the  cupidity  of  Ellieslaw  himself.  But 
Miss  Vere  and  Ratcliffe  thought  it  unnecessary  to  men- 
tion to  Earnscliff  that  one  great  motive  of  Sir  Edward, 
in  thus  loading  the  young  pair  with  benefits,  was  to  ex- 
piate his  having,  many  years  before,  shed  the  blood  of 
his  father  in  a  hasty  brawl.  If  it  be  true,  as  Ratcliffe 
asserted,  that  the  Dwarf's  extreme  misanthropy  seemed 
to  relax  somewhat  under  the  consciousness  of  having 
diffused  happiness  among  so  many,  the  recollection  of 
this  circumstance  might  probably  be  one  of  his  chief 
motives  for  refusing  obstinately  ever  to  witness  their 
state  of  contentment. 

Mareschal  hunted,  shot,  and  drank  claret,  tired  of 
the  country,  went  abroad,  served  three  campaigns, 
came  home,  and  married  Lucy  Ilderton. 

Years  fled  over  the  heads  of  Earnscliff  and  his  wife, 

388 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 

and  found  and  left  them  contented  and  happy.  The 
scheming  ambition  of  Sir  Frederick  Langley  engaged 
him  in  the  unfortunate  insurrection  of  1715.  He  was 
made  prisoner  at  Preston,  in  Lancashire,  with  the  Earl 
of  Derwentwater  and  others.  His  defence,  and  the  dying 
speech  which  he  made  at  his  execution,  may  be  found  in 
the  '  State  Trials.'  Mr.  Vere,  supplied  by  his  daughter 
with  an  ample  income,  continued  to  reside  abroad, 
engaged  deeply  in  the  affair  of  Law's  bank  during  the 
regency  of  the  Duke  of  Orleans,  and  was  at  one  time 
supposed  to  be  immensely  rich.  But,  on  the  bursting  of 
that  famous  bubble,  he  was  so  much  chagrined  at  being 
again  reduced  to  a  moderate  annuity  (although  he  saw 
thousands  of  his  companions  in  misfortune  absolutely 
starving)  that  vexation  of  mind  brought  on  a  paralytic 
stroke,  of  which  he  died,  after  Ungering  under  its  effects 
a  few  weeks. 

Willie  of  Westburnflat  fled  from  the  wrath  of  Hobbie 
Elliot,  as  his  betters  did  from  the  pursuit  of  the  law. 
His  patriotism  urged  him  to  serve  his  country  abroad, 
while  his  reluctance  to  leave  his  native  soil  pressed  him 
rather  to  remain  in  the  beloved  island  and  collect  purses, 
watches,  and  rings  on  the  highroads  at  home.  Fort- 
unately for  him,  the  first  impulse  prevailed,  and  he 
joined  the  army  under  Marlborough;  obtained  a  com- 
mission, to  which  he  was  recommended  by  his  services 
in  collecting  cattle  for  the  commissariat;  returned  home 
after  many  years  with  some  money  (how  come  by, 
Heaven  only  knows);  demolished  the  peel-house-  at 
Westburnflat  and  built  in  its  stead  a  high  narrow  ^on- 
stead'  of  three  stories,  with  a  chimney  at  each  end; 
drank  brandy  with  the  neighbours  whom  in  his  younger 

389 


WAVERLEY  NOVELS 


days  he  had  plundered;  died  in  his  bed,  and  is  recorded 
upon  his  tombstone  at  Kirkwhistle  (still  extant)  as  hav- 
ing played  all  the  parts  of  a  brave  soldier,  a  discreet 
neighbour,  and  a  sincere  Christian. 

Mr.  Ratcliflfe  resided  usually  with  the  family  at  El- 
lieslaw,  but  regularly  every  spring  and  autumn  he  ab- 
sented himself  for  about  a  month.  On  the  direction  and 
purpose  of  his  periodical  journey  he  remained  steadily 
silent;  but  it  was  well  understood  that  he  was  then  in 
attendance  on  his  unfortunate  patron.  At  length,  on 
his  return  from  one  of  these  visits,  his  grave  counte- 
nance and  deep  mourning  dress  announced  to  the  Ellies- 
law  family  that  their  benefactor  was  no  more.  Sir 
Edward's  death  made  no  addition  to  their  fortune,  for 
he  had  divested  himself  of  his  property  during  his  life- 
time, and  chiefly  in  their  favour.  Ratcliffe,  his  sole 
confidant,  died  at  a  good  old  age,  but  without  ever 
naming  the  place  to  which  his  master  had  finally  re- 
tired, or  the  manner  of  his  death,  or  the  place  of  his 
burial.  It  was  supposed  that  on  all  these  particulars  his 
patron  had  enjoined  him  strict  secrecy. 

The  sudden  disappearance  of  Elshie  from  his  extra- 
ordinary hermitage  corroborated  the  reports  which  the 
common  people  had  spread  concerning  him.  Many  be- 
lieved that,  having  ventured  to  enter  a  consecrated 
building,  contrary  to  his  paction  with  the  Evil  One,  he 
had  been  bodily  carried  off  while  on  his  return  to  his 
cottage;  but  most  are  of  opinion  that  he  only  disap- 
peared for  a  season,  and  continues  to  be  seen  from  time 
to  time  among  the  hills.  And  retaining,  according  to 
custom,  a  more  vivid  recollection  of  his  wild  and  desper- 
ate language  than  of  the  benevolent  tendency  of  most  of 

390 


THE  BLACK  DWARF 


his  actions,  he  is  usually  identified  with  the  malignant 
demon  called  the  Man  of  the  Moors,  whose  feats  were 
quoted  by  Mrs.  Elliot  to  her  grandsons;  and,  accord- 
ingly, is  generally  represented  as  bewitching  the  sheep, 
causing  the  ewes  to  ^keb,'  that  is,  to  cast  their  lambs,' or 
seen  loosening  the  impending  wreath  of  snow  to  preci- 
pitate its  weight  on  such  as  take  shelter  during  the 
storm  beneath  the  bank  of  a  torrent  or  under  the  shelter 
of  a  deep  glen.  In  short,  the  evils  most  dreaded  and 
deprecated  by  the  inhabitants  of  that  pastoral  country 
are  ascribed  to  the  agency  of  the  Black  Dwarf. 


END  OF  THE  BLACK  DWARF 


NOTES  AND  GLOSSARY 


NOTES  TO  THE  ANTIQUARY 


Note  i,  p.  105 

The  doctrine  of  Monkbarns  on  the  origin  of  imprisonment  for 
civil  debt  in  Scotland  may  appear  somewhat  whimsical,  but  was 
referred  to,  and  admitted  to  be  correct,  by  the  Bench  of  the  Su- 
preme Scottish  Court  on  5th  December,  1828,  in  the  case  of 
Thom  V,  Black.  In  fact,  the  Scottish  law  is  in  this  particular  more 
jealous  of  the  personal  liberty  of  the  subject  than  any  other  code 
in  Europe. 

Note  2,  p.  113 

The  great  battle  of  Harlaw,  here  and  formerly  referred  to, 
might  be  said  to  determine  whether  the  Gaelic  or  the  Saxon  race 
should  be  predominant  in  Scotland.  Donald,  Lord  of  the  Isles, 
who  had  at  that  period  the  power  of  an  independent  sovereign, 
laid  claim  to  the  Earldom  of  Ross  during  the  Regency  of  Robert, 
Duke  of  Albany.  To  enforce  his  supposed  right,  he  ravaged  the 
north  with  a  large  army  of  Highlanders  and  Islesmen.  He  was 
encountered  at  Harlaw,  in  the  Garioch,  by  Alexander,  Earl  of 
Mar,  at  the  head  of  the  northern  nobility  and  gentry  of  Saxon 
and  Norman  descent.  The  battle  was  bloody  and  indecisive;  but 
the  invader  was  obliged  to  retire  in  consequence  of  the  loss  he  sus- 
tained, and  afterwards  was  compelled  to  make  submission  to  the 
Regent,  and  renounce  his  pretensions  to  Ross ;  so  that  all  the 
advantages  of  the  field  were  gained  by  the  Saxons.  The  battle 
of  Harlaw  was  fought  24th  July,  141 1. 

Note  3,  p.  117 

The  concluding  circumstance  of  Elspeth^s  death  is  taken  from 
an  incident  said  to  have  happened  at  the  funeral  of  John,  Duke 
of  Roxburghe.  All  who  were  acquainted  with  that  accomplished 
nobleman  must  remember  that  he  was  not  more  remarkable  for 
creating  and  possessing  a  most  curious  and  splendid  library  than 
for  his  acquaintance  with  the  hterary  treasures  it  contained.  In 
arranging  his  books,  fetching  and  replacing  the  volumes  which 
he  wanted,  and  carrying  on  all  the  necessary  intercourse  which  a 
man  of  letters  holds  with  his  library,  it  was  the  Duke's  custom  to 


393 


NOTES 


employ,  not  a  secretary  or  librarian,  but  a  livery  servant,  called 
Archie,  whom  habit  had  made  so  perfectly  acquainted  with  the 
library  that  he  knew  every  book,  as  a  shepherd  does  the  individ- 
uals of  his  flock,  by  what  is  called  head-mark,  and  could  bring  his 
master  whatever  volume  he  wanted,  and  afford  all  the  mechan- 
ical aid  the  Duke  required  in  his  literary  researches.  To  secure 
the  attendance  of  Archie,  there  was  a  bell  hung  in  his  room,  which 
was  used  on  no  occasion  except  to  call  him  individually  to  the 
Duke's  study. 

His  Grace  died  in  St.  James's  Square,  London,  in  the  year 
1804;  the  body  was  to  be  conveyed  to  Scotland,  to  lie  in  state 
at  his  mansion  of  Fleurs,  and  to  be  removed  from  thence  to  the 
family  burial-place  at  Bowden. 

At  this  time  Archie,  who  had  been  long  attacked  by  a  liver- 
complaint,  was  in  the  very  last  stage  of  that  disease.  Yet  he  pre- 
pared himself  to  accompany  the  body  of  the  master  whom  he  had 
so  long  and  so  faithfully  waited  upon.  The  medical  persons  as- 
sured him  he  could  not  survive  the  journey.  It  signified  nothing, 
he  said,  whether  he  died  in  England  or  Scotland;  he  was  resolved 
to  assist  in  rendering  the  last  honours  to  the  kind  master  from 
whom  he  had  been  inseparable  for  so  many  years,  even  if  he  should 
expire  in  the  attempt.  The  poor  invalid  was  permitted  to  attend 
the  Duke's  body  to  Scotland;  but  when  they  reached  Fleurs  he 
was  totally  exhausted,  and  obliged  to  keep  his  bed,  in  a  sort  of 
stupor  which  announced  speedy  dissolution.  On  the  morning  of 
the  day  fixed  for  removing  the  dead  body  of  the  Duke  to  the  place 
of  burial,  the  private  bell  by  which  he  was  wont  to  summon  his 
attendant  to  his  study  was  rung  violently.  This  might  easily 
happen  in  the  confusion  of  such  a  scene,  although  the  people  of 
the  neighbourhood  prefer  believing  that  the  bell  sounded  of  its 
own  accord.  Ring,  however,  it  did;  and  Archie,  roused  by  the 
well-known  summons,  rose  up  in  his  bed,  and  faltered,  in  broken 
accents,  *  Yes,  my  Lord  Duke  —  yes;  I  will  wait  on  your  Grace 
instantly ' ;  and  with  these  words  on  his  lips  he  is  said  to  have 
fallen  back  and  expired. 

Note  4,  p.  173 

The  story  of  the  false  alarm  at  Fairport,  and  the  consequences, 
are  taken  from  a  real  incident.  Those  who  witnessed  the  state  of 
Britain,  and  of  Scotland  in  particular,  from  the  period  that  suc- 
ceeded the  war  which  commenced  in  1803  to  the  battle  of  Tra- 


394 


NOTES 


falgar  must  recollect  those  times  with  feelings  which  we  can 
hardly  hope  to  make  the  rising  generation  comprehend.  Almost 
every  individual  was  enrolled  either  in  a  military  or  civil  capacity 
for  the  purpose  of  contributing  to  resist  the  long-suspended  threats 
of  invasion  which  were  echoed  from  every  quarter.  Beacons  were 
erected  along  the  coast  and  all  through  the  country,  to  give  the 
signal  for  every  one  to  repair  to  the  post  where  his  peculiar  duty 
called  him,  and  men  of  every  description  fit  to  serve  held  them- 
selves in  readiness  on  the  shortest  summons.  During  this  agitat- 
ing period,  and  on  the  evening  of  the  2d  February,  1804,  the 
person  who  kept  watch  on  the  commanding  station  of  Home 
Castle,  being  deceived  by  some  accidental  fire  in  the  country  of 
Northumberland,  which  he  took  for  the  corresponding  signal- 
light  in  that  country  with  which  his  orders  were  to  communicate, 
lighted  up  his  own  beacon.  The  signal  was  immediately  repeated 
through  all  the  valleys  on  the  English  Border.  If  the  beacon  at 
St.  Abb's  Head  had  been  fired,  the  alarm  would  have  run 
northward  and  roused  all  Scotland.  But  the  watch  at  this  im- 
portant point  judiciously  considered  that,  if  there  had  been  an 
actual  or  threatened  descent  on  our  eastern  sea-coast,  the  alarm 
would  have  come  along  the  coast,  and  not  from  the  interior  of 
the  country. 

Through  the  Border  counties  the  alarm  spread  with  rapidity, 
and  on  no  occasion  when  that  country  was  the  scene  of  perpetual 
and  unceasing  war  was  the  summons  to  arms  more  readily  obeyed. 
In  Berwickshire,  Roxburghshire,  and  Selkirkshire  the  volunteers 
and  militia  got  under  arms  with  a  degree  of  rapidity  and  alacrity 
which,  considering  the  distance  individuals  lived  from  each  other, 
had  something  in  it  very  surprising;  they  poured  to  the  alarm- 
posts  on  the  sea-coast  in  a  state  so  well  armed  and  so  completely 
appointed,  with  baggage,  provisions,  etc.,  as  was  accounted  by 
the  best  military  judges  to  render  them  fit  for  instant  and  effectual 
service. 

There  were  some  particulars  in  the  general  alarm  which  are  cu- 
rious and  interesting.  The  men  of  Liddesdale,  the  most  remote 
point  to  the  westward  which  the  alarm  reached,  were  so  much 
afraid  of  being  late  in  the  field  that  they  put  in  requisition  all  the 
horses  they  could  find,  and  when  they  had  thus  made  a  forced 
march  out  of  their  own  country,  they  turned  their  borrowed  steeds 
loose  to  find  their  way  back  through  the  hills,  and  they  all  got 
back  safe  to  their  own  stables.  Another  remarkable  circumstance 
was  the  general  cry  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  smaller  towns  for 


39S 


NOTES 


arms,  that  they  might  go  along  with  their  companions.  The 

Selkirkshire  Yeomanry  made  a  remarkable  march,  for,  although 
some  of  the  individuals  lived  at  twenty  and  thirty  miles'  distance 
from  the  place  where  they  mustered,  they  were  nevertheless 
embodied  and  in  order  in  so  short  a  period  that  they  were  at 
Dalkeith,  which  was  their  alarm-post,  about  one  o'clock  on  the 
day  succeeding  the  first  signal,  with  men  and  horses  in  good 
order,  though  the  roads  were  in  a  bad  state,  and  many  of  the 
troopers  must  have  ridden  forty  or  fifty  miles  without  drawing 
bridle.  Two  members  of  the  corps  chanced  to  be  absent  from 
their  homes,  and  in  Edinburgh  on  private  business.  The  lately 
married  wife  of  one  of  these  gentlemen,  and  the  widowed  mother 
of  the  other,  sent  the  arms,  uniforms  and  chargers  of  the  two 
troopers  that  they  might  join  their  companions  at  Dalkeith. 
The  Author  was  very  much  struck  by  the  answer  made  to  him 
by  the  last-mentioned  lady,  when  he  paid  her  some  compliment 
on  the  readiness  which  she  showed  in  equipping  her  son  with  the 
means  of  meeting  danger,  when  she  might  have  left  him  a  fair  ex- 
cuse for  remaining  absent.  'Sir,'  she  replied,  with  the  spirit  of  a 
Roman  matron,  'none  can  know  better  than  you  that  my  son  is 
the  only  prop  by  which,  since  his  father's  death,  our  family  is 
supported.  But  I  would  rather  see  him  dead  on  that  hearth  than 
hear  that  he  had  been  a  horse's  length  behind  his  companions 
in  the  defence  of  his  king  and  country.'  The  Author  mentions 
what  was  immediately  under  his  own  eye  and  within  his  own 
knowledge;  but  the  spirit  was  universal,  wherever  the  alarm 
reached,  both  in  Scotland  and  England. 

The  account  of  the  ready  patriotism  displayed  by  the  country 
on  this  occasion  warmed  the  hearts  of  Scottish  men  in  every 
corner  of  the  world.  It  reached  the  ears  of  the  well-known  Dr. 
Leyden,  whose  enthusiastic  love  of  Scotland,  and  of  his  own 
district  of  Teviotdale,  formed  a  distinguished  part  of  his  char- 
acter. The  account,  which  was  read  to  him  when  on  a  sick-bed, 
stated  (very  truly)  that  the  different  corps,  on  arriving  at  their 
alarm-posts,  announced  themselves  by  their  music  playing  the 
tunes  peculiar  to  their  own  districts,  many  of  which  have  been 
gathering-signals  for  centuries.  It  was  particularly  remembered 
that  the  Liddesdale  men  before  mentioned  entered  Kelso  playing 
the  lively  tune  — 

O  wha  dare  meddle  wi'  me, 

And  wha  dare  meddle  wi'  mel 
My  name  it  is  little  Jock  Elliot, 

And  wha  dare  meddle  wi'  mel 


396 


NOTES 


The  patient  was  so  delighted  with  this  display  of  ancient  Border 
spirit  that  he  sprung  up  in  his  bed  and  began  to  sing  the  old  song 
with  such  vehemence  of  action  and  voice  that  his  attendants, 
ignorant  of  the  cause  of  excitation,  concluded  that  the  fever  had 
taken  possession  of  his  brain ;  and  it  was  only  the  entry  of  another 
Borderer,  Sir  John  Malcolm,  and  the  explanation  which  he  was 
well  qualified  to  give,  that  prevented  them  from  resorting  to 
means  of  medical  coercion. 

The  circumstances  of  this  false  alarm,  and  its  consequences, 
may  be  now  held  of  too  little  importance  even  for  a  note  upon  a 
work  of  fiction;  but  at  the  period  when  it  happened  it  was  hailed 
by  the  country  as  a  propitious  omen  that  the  national  force,  to 
which  much  must  naturally  have  been  trusted,  had  the  spirit  to 
look  in  the  face  the  danger  which  they  had  taken  arms  to  repel; 
and  every  one  was  convinced  that,  on  whichever  side  God  might 
bestow  the  victory,  the  invaders  would  meet  with  the  most  de- 
termined opposition  from  the  children  of  the  soil. 


NOTES  TO  THE  BLACK  DWARF 


Note  i,  p.  198 

We  have,  in  this  and  other  instances,  printed  in  italics  some  few 
words  which  the  worthy  editor,  Mr.  Jedediah  Cleishbotham, 
seems  to  have  interpolated  upon  the  text  of  his  deceased  friend, 
Mr.  Pattieson.  We  must  observe,  once  for  all,  that  such  liber- 
ties seem  only  to  have  been  taken  by  the  learned  gentleman  where 
his  own  character  and  conduct  are  concerned;  and  surely  he  must 
be  the  best  judge  of  the  style  in  which  his  own  character  and  con- 
duct should  be  treated  of. 

Note  2,  p.  201 

The  Black  Dwarf,  now  almost  forgotten,  was  once  held  a  for- 
midable personage  by  the  dalesmen  of  the  Border,  where  he  got 
the  blame  of  whatever  mischief  befell  the  sheep  or  cattle.  *He 
was,'  says  Dr.  Leyden,  who  makes  considerable  use  of  him  in  the 
ballad  called  the  *  Cout  of  Keeldar,'  *  a  fairy  of  the  most  malignant 
order  —  the  genuine  Northern  Duergar.'  The  best  and  most  au- 
thentic account  of  this  dangerous  and  mysterious  being  occurs  in 
a  tale  communicated  to  the  author  by  that  eminent  antiquary, 
Richard  Surtees,  Esq.,  of  Mainsforth,  author  of  the  History  of  the 
Bishopric  of  Durham. 

According  to  this  well-attested  legend,  two  young  Northum- 
brians were  out  on  a  shooting  party,  and  had  plunged  deep  among 
the  mountainous  moorlands  which  border  on  Cumberland.  They 
stopped  for  refreshment  in  a  little  secluded  dell  by  the  side  of  a 
rivulet.  There,  after  they  had  partaken  of  such  food  as  they 
brought  with  them,  one  of  the  party  fell  asleep;  the  other,  un- 
willing to  disturb  his  friend's  repose,  stole  silently  out  of  the  dell 
with  the  purpose  of  looking  around  him,  when  he  was  astonished 
to  find  himself  close  to  a  being  who  seemed  not  to  belong  to  this 
world,  as  he  was  the  most  hideous  dwarf  that  the  sun  ever  shone 
on.  His  head  was  of  full  human  size,  forming  a  frightful  contrast 
with  his  height,  which  was  considerably  under  four  feet.  It  was 
thatched  with  no  other  covering  than  long  matted  red  hair,  like 
that  of  the  fell  of  a  badger  in  consistence,  and  in  colour  a  reddish- 
brown,  like  the  hue  of  the  heather-blossom.  His  limbs  seemed  of 


398 


NOTES 


great  strength;  nor  was  he  otherwise  deformed  than  from  their 
undue  proportion  in  thickness  to  his  diminutive  height.  The  ter- 
rified sportsman  stood  gazing  on  this  horrible  apparition  until, 
with  an  angry  countenance,  the  being  demanded  by  what  right 
he  intruded  himself  on  those  hills  and  destroyed  their  harmless 
inhabitants.  The  perplexed  stranger  endeavoured  to  propitiate 
the  incensed  dwarf  by  offering  to  surrender  his  game,  as  he  would 
to  an  earthly  lord  of  the  manor.  The  proposal  only  redoubled 
the  offence  already  taken  by  the  dwarf,  who  alleged  that  he  was 
the  lord  of  those  mountains,  and  the  protector  of  the  wild  creat- 
ures who  found  a  retreat  in  their  solitary  recesses ;  and  that  all 
spoils  derived  from  their  death  or  misery  were  abhorrent  to  him. 
The  hunter  humbled  himself  before  the  angry  gobhn,  and  by  pro- 
testations of  his  ignorance,  and  of  his  resolution  to  abstain  from 
such  intrusion  in  future,  at  last  succeeded  in  pacifying  him.  The 
gnome  now  became  more  communicative,  and  spoke  of  himself 
as  belonging  to  a  species  of  beings  something  between  the  angelic 
race  and  humanity.  He  added,  moreover,  which  could  hardly 
have  been  anticipated,  that  he  had  hopes  of  sharing  in  the  re- 
demption of  the  race  of  Adam.  He  pressed  the  sportsman  to 
visit  his  dwelHng,  which  he  said  was  hard  by,  and  plighted  his 
faith  for  his  safe  return.  But  at  this  moment  the  shout  of  the 
sportsman's  companion  was  heard  calling  for  his  friend,  and  the 
dwarf,  as  if  unwilling  that  more  than  one  person  should  be  cog- 
nisant of  his  presence,  disappeared  as  the  young  man  emerged 
from  the  dell  to  join  his  comrade. 

It  was  the  universal  opinion  of  those  most  experienced  in  such 
matters  that,  if  the  shooter  had  accompanied  the  spirit,  he  would, 
notwithstanding  the  dwarf's  fair  pretences,  have  been  either  torn 
to  pieces  or  immured  for  years  in  the  recesses  of  some  fairy  hill. 

Such  is  the  last  and  most  authentic  account  of  the  apparition 
of  the  Black  Dwarf. 

Note  3,  p.  287 

There  is  a  level  meadow,  on  the  very  margin  of  the  two  king- 
doms, called  Turner's  Holm,  just  where  the  brook  called  Crissop 
joins  the  Liddel.  It  is  said  to  have  derived  its  name  as  being  a 
place  frequently  assigned  for  tourneys  during  the  ancient  Border 
times. 


399 


GLOSSARY 


a',  all. 

abune,  above, 
ae,  one. 
aff,  oflf. 

again\  against,  until, 
ain,  own. 
aim,  iron, 
ait,  oat. 
aith,  oath, 
ahint,  behind, 
amaist,  almost, 
an,  if. 

aneath,  underneath, 
anent,  about, 
anes,  once. 

antic,  grotesque,  ludicrous, 
assoilzie,  acquit,  clear, 
auld-farrant,  sagacious,  having  the 

wisdom  of  age. 
ava,  at  all,  of  all. 
aweel,  well, 
awmous,  alms, 
awsome,  awe-inspiring. 

bairn,  a  child, 
baith,  both, 
ban,  curse, 
bane,  a  bone. 

bedesman,  a  poor  man  supported  in  a 
bedes-house  and  required  to  pray 
for  the  soul  of  its  founder. 

bedral,  a  sexton. 

behuved,  was  necessary. 

bein,  comfortable,  well  provided. 

belyve,  immediately. 

ben,  in,  inside. 

bent,  the  open  country. 

bicker,  a  wooden  dish. 

bide,  wait,  endure. 

bigging,  building. 

billie,  a  brother,  a  comrade. 

bink,  a  plate-rack. 

birl,  turn,  whirl. 

blink,  a  moment. 


blithe,  blythe,  happy,  glad, 
blude,  blood, 
bode,  bid,  offer. 

bodle,  a  copper  coin  worth  one  sixth 
of  an  English  penny. 

bogilly,  haunted  by  hobgoblins. 

bogle,  a  bogie. 

bole,  a  window  opening. 

bonny,  pretty,  fine. 

bonny-wawlies,  toys,  gewgaws. 

bore,  a  hole. 

bothy,  a  Highland  hut. 

bouk,  bowk,  bulk. 

brae,  a  hillside. 

branking,  prancing. 

brawly,  well,  cleverly. 

braws,  fine  clothes. 

breeks,  trousers. 

buck,  push. 

buick,  buke,  a  book. 

butter  in  the  black  dog's  hause,  any- 
thing hopelessly  lost. 

caM,  called, 
caduacs,  casualties, 
caller,  fresh, 
cankered,  crabbed, 
cannle,  a  candle, 
canny,  shrewd,  sensible, 
cantrip,  a  trick,  a  frolic, 
capeechin,  a  Capuchin, 
capper,  copper. 

car-cakes,  small  cakes  baked  with 
eggs,  eaten  on  Shrove  Tuesday. 

carle,  a  fellow. 

carlin,  a  witch. 

cast,  fate,  lot,  opportunity. 

cateran,  a  Highland  irregular  fighting 
man,  a  marauder. 

ca'-thro',  an  ado. 

cauld,  cold. 

cautelous,  cautious. 

cavey,  a  hen-coop. 

certie,  faith! 


6  401 


GLOSSARY 


cess,  a  land-tax. 
chancy,  lucky,  safe, 
chare,  do,  perform, 
chiel,  a  young  man. 
claith,  cloth,  clothes, 
clartier,  dirtier, 
clashes,  gossip, 
clattered,  tattled, 
clavers,  idle  talk,  nonsense, 
deeds,  clothes. 

clink  doun,  clap  down,  put  down 
sharply. 

clodded,  hurled  down,  threw  heavily, 
cloot,  hoof,  head  of  cattle, 
clouted,  patched, 
coble,  a  small  boat, 
cockit,  stuck  up. 
corbie,  a  crow,  a  raven, 
coronach,  a  lament  for  the  dead, 
coupit,  upset, 
cracking,  gossiping, 
cracks,  chats,  news, 
crappit-heads,   stuffed  haddocks 

heads, 
crookit,  crooked, 
crousely,  confidently, 
cruppen,  crept, 
cullion,  a  coward,  a  poltroon, 
cummer,  a  gossip, 
curfuffle,  excitement, 
cumie,  a  company,  a  band, 
cusin,  a  cousin. 

dafiing,  frolicking. 

daft,  crazy,  wild. 

dammer  and  sinker,  a  miner. 

dandering,  daundering,  sauntering. 

deals,  boards. 

dee,  do. 

deeing,  dying. 

deil  gae'd  o'er  Jock  Wabster,  every- 
thing was  ruined, 
democraws,  democrats, 
dewel,  a  stunning  blow, 
dinna,  do  not. 
dooms,  very,  exceedingly, 
door-pin,  a  latch, 
dour,  sour,  stubborn, 
dourlach,  a  quiver, 
dowed,  was  able, 
downa,  cannot,  do  not  like, 
draves  drove. 


dreeing,  enduring, 
dreeping,  dripping, 
drinking  the  dirge,  sharing  in  a  fun- 
eral feast, 
drucken,  drunk, 
dune,  done. 

earded,  buried, 
een,  eyes, 
e'enow.  Just  now. 
effeir,  belong  to. 
eithly,  easily, 
eneugh,  enough, 
exies,  hysterics. 

fae,  who. 
fa'en,  fallen, 
fair-strae,  natural, 
fallow,  a  fellow, 
fan,  when, 
fand,  found, 
fanever,  whenever, 
farl,  a  fourth  part, 
fary,  very, 
fash,  trouble, 
fat,  what, 
faulded,  folded, 
fause,  false. 

feck,  a  quantity.  ' 
feckless,  feeble, 
feel-body,  a  foolish  person, 
fere,  sound,  well. 

fiar,  one  who  holds  the  reversion  of 

property, 
fickle,  a  puzzle, 
fireflaught,  fireflash,  lightning, 
fit,  a  foot, 
fite,  white, 
fiee,  a  fly. 

flightering,  fluttering. 

fliskmahoy,  a  flirt. 

flit,  pass,  pass  away. 

flung,  deceived,  disappointed. 

fiyting,  scolding. 

forfairn,  worn  out. 

forfoughten,  exhausted,  breathless. 

forrit,  forward. 

foundered,  stunned. 

frae,  from. 

freer,  a  friar. 

fugie-warrants,  warrants  for  prevent- 
ing the  flight  of  a  debtor. 


402 


GLOSSARY 


fule,  a  fool, 
fund,  found. 

gaberlunzie,  a  beggar, 
gadso,  a  mild  oath, 
gaed,  went, 
gait,  way. 
gane,  gone, 
gang,  go. 
gars,  makes, 
gash,  shrewd. 

gathering  peat,  the  piece  of  peat  left 

to  keep  the  fire  alive, 
gear,  goods,  property, 
gecked,  mocked,  taunted, 
gey,  very,  considerably, 
ghaists,  ghosts, 
gie,  give;  gieing,  giving, 
gin,  if. 
gird,  a  girth, 
girnel-kist,  a  corn-bin. 
glaves,  swords, 
gleg,  keen,  sharp, 
gliff,  fright, 
glower,  glare,  stare, 
gousty,  ghostly, 
gowd,  gold, 
gowks,  fools. 

graping,  groping,  searching. 

greet,  weep. 

grice,  a  sucking  pig. 

grit,  great. 

grumach,  ugly. 

grund,  the  ground. 

gudedaughter,  daughter-in-law. 

gudemither,  mother-in-law. 

gyte,  out  of  one's  senses. 

baddies,  haddock. 

haet,  an  atom. 

haill,  hale,  the  whole,  all. 

halie,  holy. 

hallan,  a  partition. 

harns,  brains. 

har'st,  harvest. 

hand,  hold. 

hause,  the  throat. 

havered,  talked  at  random. 

hellicat,  a  wicked  creature,  giddy. 

henker,  a  hangman. 

heugh,  a  crag. 

hinney,  honey. 


hoUin,  holly, 
houdie,  a  midwife, 
house-riggin,  the  ridge-pole, 
howe,  a  hoe. 
howks,  digs, 
hurchin,  a  hedgehog, 
hurling,  whirling,  rushing. 

ilka,  each. 

ill-fa'ard,  unprepossessing, 
ingans,  onions, 
ingle,  the  fire,  a  fireplace, 
in-ower,  within. 

I  'se,  I  will.  , 
ither,  other. 

jaloused,  suspected, 
jeedging,  judging,  thinking, 
jeest,  just, 
jimp,  scarcely. 

jinking  in,  darting  in  suddenly, 
jocolate,  chocolate, 
jookery-paukery,  jugglery,  trickery, 
jowing,  rolling. 

kame,  a  comb. 

kecl3rvine,  kylevine,  a  lead-pencil. 

keepit,  kept. 

kemping,  striving. 

kend,  knew,  known. 

kent,  a  long  staff. 

kerne,  a  light-armed  soldier. 

key,  a  quay,  a  wharf. 

kilt,  tuck  up,  go  lightly,  hang. 

kimmer,  a  gossip,  a  neighbour. 

kirk,  church. 

kist,  a  chest. 

kittle,  ticklish. 

knave,  a  boy. 

knockit,  knocked. 

knowe,  a  knoll. 

kye,  kine,  cows. 

laith,  loath. 

land-louper,  an  adventurer. 

langer,  longer. 

lap,  leaped. 

lauch,  law. 

lave,  the  rest. 

leddy,  a  lady. 

leg-bail,  to  take,  to  run  away, 
leglin,  a  milkpail. 


403 


GLOSSARY 


Uckit,  struck. 

lift,  to  lift  up  the  coffin  at  the  begin- 
ning of  a  funeral, 
likit,  liked,  loved,  pleased, 
loan-head,  the  end  of  a  lane, 
loom,  a  utensil,  a  tool, 
loon,  a  clown, 
lound,  calm, 
loup,  leap. 

louping-ill,  a  leaping  disease  that  af- 
fects sheep. 

lug,  an  ear,  a  handle. 

lunt,  a  torch,  a  match. 

lykewake,  a  watch  over  the  dead,  at 
night. 

maen,  moan,  lament, 
mair,  more;  mair  by  token,  especi- 
ally, 
xnaist,  most, 
maun,  must. 

merk,  a  Scotch  coin  worth  i^.  i^d. 

mettle,  courage,  resolution. 

mmi,  quiet,  demure. 

minnie,  mother. 

mirk,  dark. 

mislippen,  suspect. 

misset,  put  out,  disturb. 

mote,  a  hillock. 

moulds,  mouls,  sod. 

muckle,  much,  great. 

nae,  no. 
nain,  own. 
nane,  none, 
neb,  a  nose, 
neist,  next. 

neuk,  a  nook,  a  corner, 
nevoy,  a  nephew, 
nicker,  giggle. 

niffered,  haggled,  exchanged. 

oe,  a  grandson, 
onstead,  a  farmstead, 
ony,  any. 

orra,  odd,  occasional. 

out-ower,  outside. 

out-taken,  excepted. 

overlay,  a  neckcloth. 

ower,  over;  ower  far  in,  too  intimate. 

owerby,  a  little  distance  away. 

owertaen,  overtaken. 


palin'-thing,  a  place  inclosed  with 

pickets, 
palmering,  wandering, 
parritch,  porridge, 
partans,  crabs, 
pat,  put. 

peengin,  whining, 
peer,  equal, 
periapt,  a  charm. 

pibroch,  a  series  of  variations  for  the 
bagpipes. 

pictamie,  the  great  tern. 

pinch,  a  crowbar,  a  lever. 

pinners,  part  of  a  headdress  for  wo- 
men. 

pirn,  a  reel. 

pit,  put. 

pith,  energy,  heart, 
pliskie,  a  trick, 
pluff,  a  powder  puff, 
pock,  a  bag,  a  sack, 
pockmanky,  a  portmanteau, 
poinder,  distraint  of  property  for 
debt. 

pose,  a  secret  hoard. 

pousowdie,  a  miscellaneous  mess. 

pouting,  potting,  shooting. 

pow,  a  head. 

powny,  a  pony. 

powther,  powder. 

prent  buke,  a  printed  book. 

propine,  a  gift. 

pu*,  pull. 

puir,  poor. 

putted,  drove. 

quaigh,  queich,  a  drinking-cup. 
quean,  a  wench,  a  young  woman. 

rae,  a  roe. 

rant,  merrymaking. 

rasp-house,  a  prison. 

rath,  early,  sudden. 

ratton,  a  rat. 

red  wud,  stark  mad. 

redd,  arrange,  advise. 

reist,  refuse  to  go  on. 

reiver,  a  robber. 

rickle,  a  heap. 

rin,  run. 

riving,  rending,  tearing, 
rizzered,  grilled,  dried  in  the  sun. 


404 


GLOSSARY 


rousted,  rusted, 
routh,  plenty, 
row,  roll. 

rudas,  rude,  stubborn, 
rugging  and  ryving,  plundering, 
runds,  strips  of  list  or  selvage. 

sackless,  innocent, 
sae,  so. 
saft,  soft, 
sain,  bless. 

sair,  sore,  very  much, 
sail,  shall, 
sauld,  sold. 

saulies,  hired  mourners, 
scauld,  scold, 
scaur,  a  crag,  a  bluff, 
scomfish,  suffocate,  stifle, 
scouther,  scorch,  toast, 
scraugh,  screech,  shriek, 
scull,  a  fish-basket, 
sealgh,  a  seal, 
sea-maw,  a  sea-gull, 
seere,  sure. 

semple,  simple,  common. 

shanks,  legs. 

shaws,  woods. 

sheeling,  winnowing. 

shelty,  a  small  horse. 

sheugh,  a  furrow,  a  ditch. 

shouthers,  shoulders. 

shule,  a  shovel. 

sib,  related  by  blood. 

sic,  siccan,  so,  such. 

sidier,  a  soldier. 

simmer,  summer. 

single  soldier,  a  private  soldier. 

sins3me,  since. 

skart,  scratched. 

skeely,  skilful. 

skirl,  a  shriek. 

skirling,  screaming. 

skreigh,  screech,  shriek. 

skreigh  o'  morning,  dawn. 

slap-bason,  slop-bowl. 

snecked,  latched. 

sneeshin-mull,  a  snuff-box. 

snell,  severe. 

snooded,  having  the  hair  bound  with 
a  fillet. 

soft  road,  a  road  through  bogs, 
sort,  arrange. 


sough,  sigh. 

souther,  solder. 

sowdered,  soldered. 

sownder,  a  young  boar. 

speed,  give  success. 

speerings,  tidings. 

squared,  adjusted,  accommodated. 

stane,  a  stone. 

stang,  a  long  pole. 

steeking,  shutting,  stitching. 

steer,  touch,  disturb,  rouse. 

steery,  disturbance,  tumult. 

steever,  stiffer,  firmer. 

sting  and  ling,  entirely,  altogether. 

stoup,  a  pitcher,  a  drinking- vessel. 

straiks,  strokes,  blows. 

strake,  struck. 

streekit,  stretched. 

strengths,  strongholds. 

stude,  studden,  stood. 

suld,  should. 

sune,  soon. 

swarv't,  swooned. 

swither,  confusion,  perplexity. 

syne,  since. 

tackle,  an  arrow, 
tae,  the  one. 
taes,  toes, 
tale-pyet,  a  telltale. 
Tammie  Norie,  a  puflSn. 
tane,  the  one. 
tap,  the  top. 

tartan,  a  chequered  cloth, 
tauld,  told. 

tawpie,  a  foolish  young  woman, 
taxed-cart,  a  two-wheeled  open  cart, 

drawn  by  one  horse, 
tent,  probe. 

thack  and  rape,  thatch  and  rope, 

complete  covering, 
thae,  those, 
thegither,  together, 
thir,  these. 

three-nookit,  three-cornered. 

threeps,  insists. 

through-stane,  a  gravestone. 

thrum,  tell  repeatedly. 

tiernach,  chief. 

till,  to;  an  unproductive  clay. 

tinkler,  a  tinker. 

tirling,  uncovering,  twirling. 


405 


GLOSSARY 


tolbooth,  a  prison, 
toom,  empty, 
trig,  trim,  neat, 
trimmer,  a  vixen, 
troke,  traffic, 
trow,  trust,  believe, 
tuck,  beat. 

tiiilzie,  a  quarrel,  a  scuffle, 
tup,  a  ram. 
twa,  two. 
twal,  twelve. 

unco,  strange,  very, 
upbye,  up  yonder, 
uphauld,  uphold,  support, 
use,  custom. 

vivers,  victuals. 

wad,  would;  a  pledge, 
wale,  pick,  choice, 
wampishes,  throws  around, 
wanle,  active, 
wark,  work, 
warlock,  a  wizard, 
wared,  spent, 
warp,  four, 
wat,  wet. 
wauking,  waking, 
waur,  worse. 


weans,  children. 

weary,  vexatious;  weary  fa',  a  curse 
on. 

weel,  well,  welfare. 

weird,  fate,  destiny. 

wha,  whoy. 

whatna,  what  not. 

whaup,  a  curlew. 

wheen,  a  few. 

whiddin',  moving  quickly. 

whiles,  sometimes. 

whinger,  a  hanger,  a  knife,  or  sword. 

whombled,  whommled,  overturned, 

wilyard,  wild,  unmanageable. 

win,  gain,  get. 

wind  us  a  pirn,  make  us  trouble, 
worricows,  hobgoblins, 
wowf,  crazed. 

wrang  side  of  the  blanket,  illegiti- 
mate, 
wud,  mad. 
wussed,  wished, 
wyte,  blame. 

yauld,  alert, 
ye,  yourself,  yea. 
yerl,  an  earl, 
yett,  a  gate 
yowe,  a  ewe. 


